


Surrender Unto Sleep

by alpha_exodus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Nightmare Injury, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Romance, Roommates, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:12:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpha_exodus/pseuds/alpha_exodus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco wants Harry, but dreams and nightmares are often two sides of the same coin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surrender Unto Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> This started because I wanted to write a virginity loss fic, and somehow, it turned from a PWP into a P WITH P (as well as being the longest fic I have written to date). There were several inspirations for it, including Kill Your Darlings/its soundtrack and the poem by Charles Anthony Silvestri that is quoted in both the title and the work.  
> Thank you to calypso_mary for betaing for me, and for putting up with my frequent "quiet time for writing" moods lately!  
> Also, I am sorry/not sorry for the... *counts* six-ish d/h sex scenes scattered throughout.  
> I hope you enjoy it (:

It was a chilly day on a weekend October when Draco walked into his room to find Blaise sucking Theo's cock. In Draco's  _room_! And in the middle of the afternoon, no less!

Okay, it was technically Theo's room, too, but still.

"What the hell are you two doing?!" he yelped with a strangled voice, obstinately looking anywhere but at the two naked boys. Not that they weren't both attractive, of course—it just felt entirely too intimate to watch them in the act. Especially since Blaise hadn't bothered to stop sucking at Theo upon hearing Draco's entrance.

"What does it look like?" Theo drawled, infuriatingly calm despite the current situation.

Draco remained frozen. "Well, obviously—fuck—"

"Why yes, that is exactly what we're doing! Good job, chap," Blaise said, leaving off of Theo's dick for a moment.

"But, you're in my room!" Draco protested.

Theo raised his eyebrows. "You mean, _our_ room? What are you being so squeamish about? Just because you're a virgin doesn't mean everyone else is. Just go somewhere else for a while, geez."

Blaise snorted. "You're a virgin? Never would have guessed, with Pansy hanging all over you for the last three years."

Draco spluttered. "I mean—I'm _gay_. Just because I hadn't come out of the bloody closet yet doesn't mean that I wanted to go ahead and have sex with a girl!" The other two Slytherins chuckled.

"Looks like you need to get that taken care of," Blaise mused with a rumbling laugh before turning his attention back to Theo. Draco huffed in annoyance. Just to be spiteful, he walked over and rattled around in his desk for a quill before stalking out of the room.

"Somebody has their knickers in a twist," Theo said, idly examining his nails and gasping when Blaise gave a particularly hard suck.

-X-

Draco growled in frustration. Idiots. They had no right to do whatever they wanted, right there in his room! How was he supposed to study when the library was filled with loud first years and the Eighth Year Common Room contained the Golden Trio, and worse, Pansy, who was still upset with him for "leading her on". ("I've always been gay," he had said. She just couldn't seem to get that through her brain.)

And then—making fun of his virginity, for Merlin's sake! It's not like there was anything _wrong_ with him; he just hadn't had time for such frivolous pursuits what with Voldemort in his house and Death Eaters on his doorstep.

Muttering irritably, he stalked down to the Common Room, debating on where to study and deciding that the Common Room was probably the lesser of the two evils. Perching in a secluded corner of the Common Room was far better than sitting in the library and listening to the silly first years giggling about utter nonsense, he reasoned. Deliberately not making eye contact with Pansy, who was glaring daggers at him from across the room, he pulled out his Advanced Potions text and set to reading that week's chapter.

Maybe he really did need to get laid, he thought, laying his book down after an hour or so. He'd been uptight lately, unable to calm down during the day and forever restless at night. He stretched, glancing around the room. Who would he sleep with, though? It would have to be someone at Hogwarts, since meeting someone outside would be much too tedious. And not someone below seventh year—he wasn't a cradle robber, after all.

And then, there was the slight matter of the annoying intimacy that was so often associated with sex. Odds were, whomever he ended up doing it with would be much more emotional than he, especially since the two most attractive Slytherin boys were currently fucking each other (literally, as he hadn't seen them come out of his room yet). Besides, both Blaise and Theo were exceptionally experienced, if he was to believe the boasting that had abounded in the Slytherin Common Room in years past. He didn't want to look like a bumbling fool in comparison to a suave, sexy man who knew what he was doing.

So it would have to be another virgin then. That limited the odds exponentially, as most of the gay men close to his age were already in committed relationships as far as he knew.

As the week crawled on, Draco gave more and more thought to his half-conceived plan. He was sexually frustrated enough, certainly, as wanking had not been enough to satisfy him lately. He missed being able to wank in his bed too, as the Eighth year rooms didn't contain the canopied beds of their youth (and he's not nearly as willing to get off in public as Theo is).

The thought of having someone else to relieve his stress became more and more enticing. Someone attractive, of course, and not anyone who cared too much about the Mark on his arm. Terry Boot, maybe? No, he had heard rumors that the Ravenclaw had been seen canoodling with a broad, accented Durmstrang student. Damn. He might just have to go with a non-virgin after all.

-X-

"Really? _Again_? Why can't you do this in your room, Blaise?" he complained. It was Sunday afternoon, and there they were, at it again, this time laying on Theo's bed and wanking each other.

"We do it in my room all the time," Blaise remarked, grinning. "Drives my roomie mad."

"We have a standing date on Tuesdays and Thursdays in there," Theo shrugged, bucking his hips a bit. "You should feel lucky that we're only in here on Sundays."

Draco took a deep breath, then pushed the air out loudly through his nose, rolling his eyes as he left the room. Bugger it all.

He had initially been elated to be rooming with one of his old housemates, as the potential for being paired with someone who hated him (or vice versa) had been all too high. The Eighth Years, instead of being placed in normal dormitories, had instead been put into a group of teachers' quarters that were no longer in use. It wasn't terrible, and the accommodations had in fact been better than he'd expected—only one roommate, and they shared a room and a bathroom. Out of anyone that he could have been shoved in with, Theo was not a bad choice, but being "sexiled" (apparently a Muggle term) from his own room every Sunday was not what he had anticipated.

He paused in the Common Room, surveying the area. His spot from last weekend had been taken, unfortunately, by a couple of Hufflepuff girls that looked a bit too comfortable with each other for a public setting. In contrast, on the other side of the room, Granger and the Weasel were shooting each other looks filled to the brim with sexual tension. Hufflepuff girls it was, then, so he sat down in a squishy armchair nearby, sinking into the soft cushion and pulling out his Charms essay.

Was there really no one else who was male, gay, and a single virgin in the entirety of the Seventh and Eighth year student body? He had gone through the Seventh years at dinner the night before, mentally cataloging every half-decent male he saw. A lot of them were straight. Maybe one of them would spontaneously come out within the next few months? Not likely, as most of them were in relationships, and a few months was much too long to wait, besides.

A particularly boisterous bout of laughter came from the Golden Trio's place by the fire. Potter was shaking and holding his sides, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes in response to something the Weasel had said. Fucking Potter, being loud in the common room without even a thought about people who might be trying to study.

He looked back down at his Charms essay, trying to remember the incantation to reverse the Itchy Nose hex. Something clicked in his mind, and he froze. Slowly, he looked upward again.

Potter. Potter, who had broken up with the Weaselette before Seventh Year, and who had never had gotten further than kissing with her. Potter, who the newspapers had a field day with after he let it slip that he liked men. Potter, who hadn't even tried to get a date since they had returned to school (he would have known immediately, of course—the Hogwarts rumor mill was fast and furious), choosing to instead associate almost solely with his previously tried and true friends. Fucking Potter.

No, no way. That was absolutely not an option. He had _hated_ Potter, still (probably) hated him (although he wasn't quite so sure anymore, after Potter had spoken up for he and Mother at the trials). Even so, he certainly wouldn't refrain from getting in a good hex or two, if given the opportunity.

Forcing himself to go back to his essay, he glared down at his quill. He would _not_ even _consider_ sleeping with Potter. Absolutely not.

At least he wasn't the only single gay virgin in the Eighth year.

-X-

Two weeks later, his resolve had almost completely broken down. He had walked in on Theo and Blaise twice more and subsequently cursed at himself both times for forgetting that his own room was off-limits on Sunday afternoons.

Seeking knowledge about what he was possibly about to do, and _not_ wanting to look for it in the Hogwarts library, he had owl ordered "The Guide to Wizarding Sex in Twenty Expanding Chapters: Male/Male Edition" and pored over it eagerly, reading about having one's first time and blowjobs and positions. Figuring he might as well be prepared, he started teaching himself incantations from the "Useful Spells" section, which contained several tricks for privacy charms and conjuring lubrication.

Try as he might to not think about Potter, he found his mind straying back to the scar-headed boy far too often. To quell his curiosity, he'd started taking small, curious glances at the brunet when they were in class, cataloging everything remotely good about him. Potter had a nice enough face and a slender, wiry body, lightly toned from Quidditch. Even better, his lips were wonderfully soft looking, and Draco'd caught a glimpse of his firm, round arse one day in potions and had trouble not staring at it afterwards.

So yes, Potter was attractive. And gay. That didn't have to mean anything. He repeated that to himself like a mantra: I will not think about having sex with Potter, I will _not_ think about having sex with Potter, I will not think about having _sex_ with _Potter_.

He had almost convinced himself to drop it, too, when Potter cornered him after Potions one day. Draco had knocked his own bag over in the scramble to pack up and leave, spilling its contents all over the floor. He had knelt down to reverse the damage, and as Slughorn and the other students left the room, he looked up to see Potter standing in front of him (and tried very hard not to think about his eyes being level with Potter's crotch).

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Potter sniped, but it lacked the usual venom. He looked tired.

"What are you talking about?" Draco said haughtily, standing up and adjusting the strap on his bag.

"You've been staring at me for weeks," Potter sighed.

"Have not," Draco mumbled, feeling flushed. So he had noticed. They both stood there silently for a moment.

"What is it this time?" Potter spoke finally, green eyes boring into him.

Draco cleared his throat. Well, the opportunity had arisen, and he might as well take advantage of it. He even knew what to say; he had rehearsed the imaginary speech in his head a few times (a day), leaving off at the point where Potter was supposed to respond. Better now than never. "I have… a proposition to make."

Potter crossed his arms. "Well?"

"You're gay."

"Yes, I bloody am, thanks for reminding me," Potter glared at him. Draco swallowed, grimacing internally at how rude his words had sounded. This was already deviating dangerously from how he'd imagined it would go.

"I mean, I was just confirming it. Can't believe the Prophet all the time…" Get back on track, he berated himself. "You're… a virgin, right?"

"Malfoy, that is incredibly personal, and you have no right to be asking me that," Potter snapped, shifting his bag and taking a step toward the door.

"Wait! Hang on, Potter," Draco stopped him. "Just, hear me out, all right?"

Potter sighed, turning back around. "Fine. Just get on with it. And yes, I'm a bloody virgin, and I will hex your arse if you even try to mock me for it."

"Me, too. I—I haven't done anything yet. With anyone." Why was this going so incredibly wrong? He chalked it up to his sexual frustration and frequent daydreaming. He would have to be more mentally vigilant in the future. It would not do to become this tongue tied every time he tried to proposition someone.

"And?" Potter quirked an eyebrow, looking at him oddly.

"And I'd like to change that," he said quietly.

"You mean… with me?"

"With you."

Potter squinted at him, scowling. "You're off your fucking rocker, Malfoy. I can't believe I have to say this, but no, I will not have sex with you! I can't believe you even asked me that!" He glared at Draco, then turned and stalked out of the classroom.

Bloody brilliant. That had turned out fantastically; there went his best chance at getting laid any time soon.

-X-

Two weeks later, Draco was still as horny and unfulfilled as ever. Enough that he had even considering propositioning Theo or Blaise (or both, since they were inseparable lately). However, the prospect of more humiliation blocked that idea from coming to fruition.

That night's dinner was Shepherd's pie, a dish that he had initially disliked but had come to love since starting at Hogwarts. He glanced over at Potter out of habit more than anything. The man was sitting with the Weasel and Granger, upset about something. Draco could almost make out what he was saying, and he attempted to subtly turn his ear toward the conversation.

"…at it again… …can't bloody… off of each other… _on my bed_!... Blaise…"

Ha! That was right—Blaise was rooming with Potter, wasn't he? So Draco wasn't the only one who was tormented by he and Theo's frequent sexual trysts. And, from the sound of it, they had extended their activities to both beds. Draco snorted quietly, playing with his fork. Served Potter right for turning him down.

Unable to resist taking another look at Potter before leaving the Hall, he limited himself to three seconds. The topic of conversation had shifted apparently, as Potter had stopped ranting and was now laughing cheerily with his friends.

A tinge of the jealousy that had never quite gone away jolted through him—the remnants of having his friendship turned down in their first year. He swallowed it down with the last bite of his pie.

-X-

"Malfoy!" Potter hissed, staring at him with a strange expression. They were alone again in the potions classroom. Draco had started offering to stay behind and pack up the more volatile ingredients to incur more favor with Slughorn because he figured it couldn't hurt his future career prospects as a Potions Master. Today, Potter had taken his time cleaning up his cauldron, and thus was purposefully the only student left in the room. Apparently because he wanted to yell at Draco.

He sighed. "What?" he muttered sternly, using all of his restraint to not look up from the package of botuber pus that he was resealing.

"Would you stop staring at me already? I know you want me, but seriously, someone's going to notice!"

Draco raised his eyebrows, moving onto the powdered snake intestine. "I never said I wanted you. I said I wanted sex, and since you're the only gay male virgin in our year, it was only convenient to ask you to do it with me."

Potter snorted, and Draco finally gave into the urge to look up, trying his best to school some contempt into his features. "Really, Malfoy? It sure sounded like you wanted me. You stare at me like you want me," his voice lowered, and ( _oh Merlin)_  it almost sounded like he was trying to flirt with him. Not that he wanted to flirt with Potter, but it was a nice change from Pansy (who practically drooled on him when she flirted).

Potter walked toward him, his expression neutral if one didn't count his eyebrows being raised. Draco's mouth mysteriously went dry.

"Malfoy. Let me tell you all the reasons that wouldn't work."

Draco opened his mouth to interject, but Potter shushed him.

"No, listen. First of all, I don't hate you anymore, but I can't say that I'm too fond of you, either. I get the feeling that you feel the same way, so why would you even want to lose your virginity to me? Secondly, people would find out. It would be inevitable. The minute someone saw one of us coming out of the other's room, or Theo or Blaise walked in, it would be all over the school. I don't know about you, but I would hate that. Thirdly, I still don't really trust you all that much. I'm almost entirely certain that you're going to take this and use it against me, and I would turn you down for that reason alone." He spoke in a low, serious tone, almost a whisper, but Draco couldn't deny the attraction he felt in that moment.

"For what it's worth, I wouldn't use it against you," he said, carefully bottling up the liquefied bat spleen. "That's not the sort of thing a Slytherin would do. See, sex would make you vulnerable, but it would also make me vulnerable. And that's not a position that a Slytherin would put themselves in, since the blackmail could go both ways," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"So why are you asking me in the first place, then, if I could just use it against you afterwards instead?" Potter asked, his mouth curving into a defiant smirk.

"What—I already told you why I'm asking," Draco spoke defensively. "Besides, you're a Gryffindor—you wouldn't do that."

Raising his eyebrows again, Potter looked at him thoughtfully—no derision in his eyes, just curiosity. Draco stared back, meeting him eye to eye, and their magic crackled lazily in the background. For once, it wasn't charged with energy as it usually was when they stared each other down.

Potter was the first to look away, shaking his head. "I was almost Sorted Slytherin, y'know," he said, before turning and leaving the room.

Draco was preoccupied with that statement for a very long time.

-X-

After the seventh time walking in on Blaise and Theo, the pair had enough. That had been what Draco had anticipated—maybe if he walked in on them enough times, they would stop doing it in his room. However, their solution to the problem was not at all the same as Draco's.

"Look, Draco, you're killing my boner," Theo complained, climbing off of Blaise and gesturing to his indeed softening dick. Blaise rolled onto his back, sitting up in the bed and linking his hand with Theo's. Draco rolled his eyes—they hadn't even bothered to put clothes on.

Theo picked up his wand, Summoning a slip of paper. "Now's a good enough time to discuss this as any. End of term's coming up, and we've decided that we want to switch rooms so we can be together, if you're all right with that."

Blaise nodded in agreement. "It's a right bit annoying being walked in on all the time. I know you and Potter aren't the best of friends, so we're going to try and find another pair to do a switcheroo with us so everyone's happy."

Draco's mind raced. If he could room with Potter, he was sure could convince him to have sex. This was the opportunity he had been looking for. He schooled his expression carefully, not wanting to seem too eager.

"Actually, a normal switch would be fine," he drawled. "Potter's not so bad, now. And he's mostly quiet. I could study without him interrupting."

Blaise and Theo looked at each other. Damn, they were already at the _communicating silently with just a glance_ stage in their relationship. He wondered what they were thinking, but he wasn't even close to being able to tell.

Ostensibly, they came to an agreement, though there seemed to be a hint of curiosity left in both of their eyes. Theo extended the paper he held toward Draco. "That's fine with us. Here, sign this, and then Blaise'll get Potter's signature before we leave for break."

Draco reached for the slip, glancing over the neat little lines on the room change form. Blaise and Theo had already signed—they had certainly been counting on his approval, hadn't they?

"Can I get Potter's signature instead? I'd like to… discuss and come to an agreement about what our rules our as roommates, so I'm going to need to talk to him anyway." He spoke nonchalantly, throwing his words into the room with an uncaring flair.

Blaise shrugged. "Less work for me, then. Now can you leave us alone?" he grinned, mostly at Theo, and Theo smiled back. Draco was surprised to see how happy they seemed.

He threw them a half-hearted two finger salute, shutting the door and pulling out a quill as soon as he was in the hallway. With a hand that was definitely _not_ shaking, he signed it, his signature looping satisfactorily across the parchment.

The only thing left to do was to convince Potter to sign it as well.

-X-

"No!" Potter said, scowling. "I still don't trust you, and—"

"Potter, you listen this time," Draco said, setting the curried bison bollocks down for a moment. "Being roommates means that you can be absolutely certain that I won't use this against you. We'll be around each other all the time, and you would make my life hell if I mocked you for sleeping with me or whatever you think I would do. That's not what I want. I just want to have sex without getting all that emotional bullshite in with it," he spoke in his most persuasive voice. He could tell that Potter's resolve was cracking; his eyes were shifting around the room with uncertainty.

"So... you expect my friends to just accept that I want to room with you, for no reason at all? This isn't going to work, Malfoy," Potter emphasized, not backing down quite yet.

"Tell the Weasel that you're sick of walking in on Theo and Blaise, since I'm sure you've mentioned that to him before. Granger is easy, you just have to tell her that this is all Blaise and Theo's idea, that they want privacy. And feed her some interhouse cooperation shite when she asks how you'll get by rooming with me." Draco shrugged, having already thought this out beforehand. His case is airtight. "As for everyone else—they can think what they want to. Tell them we've become friends or something. Or just use Blaise and Theo as an excuse."

Potter adjusts his glasses, sighing. "Let me get this straight, then. You want to be roommates. You want to have sex with me, once, and be done with it, and then you want to coexist peacefully for the rest of the semester until we graduate and are out of each other's lives forever," Potter ticked off the stipulations on his fingers.

"That's right," Draco affirmed. "No mocking each other. And no kissing or cuddling or any of that shite." His fingers almost shook as he stacked the hardened dragon earwax. He was going to get what he wanted, and he felt giddy with the knowledge.

"No kissing?" Potter asked, to which Draco nodded. Potter closed his eyes, mouth tightened into a line. The seconds ticked by. When he opened them again, it was with a steely and determined gaze. "Fine. I'll do it. But I have a few conditions."

Draco resisted the urge to whoop in excitement. Instead, he put the packaged ingredients into the box labelled 'Stockroom', nodding compliantly at Potter. "Well, what are they?"

The brunet appeared to be composing his thoughts for a moment. Draco let him, carrying the box over to the open stockroom and putting it onto its appropriate shelf. Then he came back, perched on a chair, and waited.

"This should go without saying, but no one finds out about this, ever," Potter started.

"I expect equal discretion from you, of course," Draco replied, smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring way. Potter proceeded to eye him suspiciously, and he quickly dropped the smile.

"We're on the same page, then. Okay. Next, I want us to use each other's first names from now on."

Draco frowned. "But I've always called you Potter," he whined.

Potter shook his head. "If we're going to do this, I want it to be with someone who I'm at least on a first name basis with. It would feel bloody weird otherwise."

"But…" Draco fumbled in his mind for an excuse.

"It's one of my conditions. You agree, or we're not doing it," Potter raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly at Draco's discomfort.

Draco rolled his eyes. Fucking Gryffindors. "Fine, _Harry_ , I'll call you by your stupid name. What else?"

Potter shrugged (and Draco could still call him Potter in his own head, thank you very much), chewing his lip for a minute. "That's about it, honestly. Oh, but I want you to tell me now exactly what we're going to be doing, you know, sexually." He looked away, fidgeting exactly like the blushing virgin he was.

Well, Draco was a blushing virgin, as well, and the words got stuck in his throat (even though he already knew exactly what he wanted). And why the hell did Potter need him to say it aloud, anyway? But he had pledged to himself that he would make this as painless as possible for Potter, so... "We're... You're going to fuck me," he said, his voice coming out much quieter than he had expected. He cursed his pale skin, knowing for certain that his face was flushing.

"You mean, like… a blowjob?" Potter asked, except he was whispering, too.

"No, like, actual fucking. You know."

"But, you don't have a… a…" Potter gestured wildly, turning very red, and Draco waited. "…a vagina."

Draco's eyes widened. Potter didn't know anything about this, didn't he? (To be fair, Draco hadn't known very much either before he had ordered the Guide, but even he had known that much!) "I don't need one. Men do it, you know. Up the arse." He tried to say it casually, but his voice came out all trembly. Fuck vulnerability, Merlin.

"Wha...? Wait, I thought that was just a saying!" Potter cried, looking extremely surprised.

"No, it's not," Draco shook his head.

"And you want me to put my… Fuck no!" Potter yelped, standing up as if he were up to leave.

"Pot—Harry, wait!" Draco stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Potter stilled at the touch. "It's not gross, or anything. There are cleaning charms and all that. Loads of gay men do it. Why do you think Theo's always on top of Blaise?"

He could see, hear Potter swallowing. "I… I never thought about it, I guess. Does that even feel good?" he squinted.

"I've heard it feels really good if you're the one putting it in," Draco said. "And it's supposed to feel good if you're bottoming, too," his words tumbled out in a rush. "I… I want to get used to it, so I don't make a fool of myself with someone I actually care about." He was again failing to keep the emotion from his voice; his hands were sweating. Belatedly, he realized that he still had one on Potter's shoulder, and he quickly snatched it away.

"Give me the form then," Potter said quietly. Draco snapped his gaze up, and he must have looked confused, because Potter gestured to Draco's bag. "There's a room change form, right? I still need to sign it."

A slow feeling of elation spread through Draco's body, and he retrieved the form, hardly believing his luck. They were going to have sex. Finally.

Potter signed it quickly and handed it back. He was pleased to see that Potter's signature was a little shaky, right there on its little line next to Draco's.

"I'll see you later, then," Potter said, looking like he wanted to say something else but leaving instead.

Draco grinned.

-X-

Winter break flew by—he had taken a Portkey to Paris to stay with Mother, and they had an enjoyable time simply walking around the city in a comfortable, albeit chilly, silence.

When he returned to his room, it seemed that Potter wasn't there yet, although Potter's trunk was. Assuming that he was still on the Express, which wasn't set to arrive until six, he pulled out the scrap of parchment that had been owled to him that morning. "Tonight, before classes start," it said. It was missing a signature, but Draco knew that it could only be from one person.

Then, he waited.

At last, the train arrived and it was time for dinner. Sitting through the Welcome Back feast was almost torture. Draco was already hard just thinking about what was in store for the night, and he had to limit himself to quick glances as he watched Potter furtively from his spot at the table. The brunet looked like he had not a care in the world, laughing and eating and talking with his friends. Draco had a sudden impulse to talk to him until he laughed that way with Draco, but he stubbornly pushed it down and away. He wasn't about to get sappy just because he was about to have sex with the man, Merlin.

Waiting until even the desserts had been cleared away, he stood up, avoiding Potter's gaze and walking quickly back to his— _their_ —room. He pulled his robes off, hanging them in his wardrobe, then hesitated. Should he take his clothes off, or leave them on? Maybe unbutton his shirt, at least? But he didn't really need to seduce Potter, anyway—Potter had already agreed to this, so there was no need... right?

With no warning, Potter walked in the room, and Draco hadn't even decided what to do yet. He settled for just turning around, shutting the door to his wardrobe behind him.

Potter had tossed his robes on the bed and was looking around, presumably ensuring that all of his possessions were indeed there. "It looks the same as my old room," he said, walking over and peering into the bathroom.

Draco nodded, perching on the edge of his bed. "I expect they all look the same."

"Yeah. My bed's even on the same side, that's good. I won't be trying to climb into yours," he said, then flushed. "On accident, I mean. You know. Er. Anyway. Yours or mine?" he gestured to the beds.

"It doesn't matter," Draco shrugged. His shoulders felt ridiculously tense.

"Yours, then," Potter decided, then started loosening his tie. He was now looking at Draco, eyeing him with a much stronger gaze than he would have anticipated. Draco, who had never been on the receiving end of such a gaze, was startled by the sudden increase in his heart rate, the rush of adrenaline that filled his body. He'd expected Potter to be timid and awkward. Not like this.

He angled himself slightly to the side, fumbling with the buttons of his own clothing, but Potter walked into his line of sight. "You can look, you know," he breathed, and somehow his shirt was already off, tossed across the back of Draco's desk chair. "You're going to see everything anyhow."

Draco nodded. Finally, he was allowed to gawk at Potter, after so many weeks of having to steal glances! So he did. Subtly, of course. He removed his own shirt, glancing over Potter's naked torso and wondering why he had never realized in years past exactly how attractive the other man was.

Potter was already removing his trousers, and Draco hastened to catch up, unfastening his own and letting them drop to the floor. Stepping forward out of them, his mouth went dry at the proximity of Potter, both of them in only their pants. He permitted himself a glance downward. Merlin, Potter was already hard—that made two of them, at least.

He suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. The scars against his chest, the Mark on his arm—what was he trying to do? Harry was looking over him, and he knew that he could see everything, but then Harry looked back up and nodded at him, dismissing his imperfections without a word.

"Come on, then," he forced himself to say, turning toward the bed and pushing his pants down. He lay on his stomach for a moment, waiting for Potter to join him before turning over.

"I… I don't really know much," Potter admitted. "So… make sure you let me know what to do. I don't want to hurt you or anything."

Draco was a tiny bit preoccupied with looking at Potter's cock, which was of average size and thickness but was already leaking at the tip. He suddenly found himself glad that Potter wasn't larger than usual. The Guide had said that the first time would most likely be uncomfortable.

"I… I have to be prepared, first," he said slowly. "Stretched." He reached over to the bedside table, grabbing his wand. "I can do it, if you don't want to, but it might take a while." Quickly, he remembered to cast the cleaning charm at himself, then held his wand up for the lubrication charm.

"No, I want to do it," Potter stopped him. "In for a Knut, you know? Just… tell me what to do," he repeated quietly.

Draco felt anxiety spike within him, and he cursed his own inexperience. He had messed around on his own over the holiday, even going so far as to push a finger inside himself, but telling someone else how to do so was a different animal entirely. Doing it already seemed to be much different than reading about it in the Guide.

He took a deep breath. "Hold out your hand," he instructed, waiting for Potter to comply before casting the lubricant charm onto Potter's first two fingers. "As long as you go really slowly, it should be okay. Start with one, then add the other later." And then he forced himself to lay back, heart racing. This was it. He pulled his knees up toward his chest, and it made him feel more vulnerable than he could have imagined.

Potter was looking, and he felt so exposed. Potter was about to touch him. He felt a finger gently nudging at his hole and had to force himself to breathe. But then, the finger became less gentle, more probing, and Draco gave up on trying to breathe as Potter pushed the tip of his finger in, flicking his eyes up to Draco. "That okay?" he murmured cautiously.

"Fine," Draco let out a mouthful of air. "Move it around a bit, so the lube gets in there. Then you can… push it in further."

"Mm," Potter complied, becoming surer in his actions. His finger continued pushing in, with small thrusts, and Draco had to fight not to whimper.

Potter's other hand, which had previously laid on the bed, had somehow moved to Draco's thigh without Draco noticing. "Can I touch you?" Potter asked, voice several pitches lower than Draco was used to hearing from him.

"Yeah, that'd be… ah, yes," Draco's head rolled back, as Potter had immediately ghosted his hand over his cock. He began stroking it slowly, firmly, and Draco squirmed with an appreciative moan.

Encouraged, Potter pushed his finger in further, and then it was in as far as it could go. Draco gasped slightly, trying to integrate the oh-so-good sensation of having his cock touched with the odd and intense feeling of penetration.

"Do you want me to put another one in?" Potter asked, voice strangely steady in comparison to how Draco felt.

"Y-yeah," he replied, bracing himself for the next intrusion. Potter pulled the first finger almost all the way out, then began pushing slowly in again, except this time there were two fingers and the thickness inside of him increased. "Feels bloody weird," he murmured, and the hand that Potter had on his cock slowed a bit.

"What's… what's it feel like?" he asked, looking unashamedly down at Draco's quivering hole, his two fingers pushing in further and further.

"Feels like… like it's not supposed to be there, I suppose." Potter's hand gave a particularly delicious twist on his cock. "Ah… it's… yeah, good… er… it feels funny because you're pushing up inside it, and that's not the direction things normally go, you know…"

"Does it feel… good?" Potter asked.

Draco hesitated, then shook his head slightly. "Not good, but… not bad, either. Um… I think there's a place inside that's supposed to feel brilliant, but I don't think you've hit it yet…"

Potter nodded. "Okay." His second finger was now all the way in, and Draco glanced over at the other man's erection again. He was going to have that inside him, soon. Merlin, he wanted it, and he wanted it now. It wasn't that much bigger, right?

"I think I'm ready," he said breathily. Potter squinted at him.

"Are you sure? You still feel really tight…"

No, he wasn't sure, but… "I want you inside me." He saw Potter swallow, saw the intense _want_ in his eyes.

"If you're sure," Potter said, pulling his fingers out. Unfortunately, he also removed the hand from Draco's cock, and he almost whimpered in protest. 

What next? Potter was looking at him expectantly, licking his lips in a way that was much too attractive. The wetness glistened on his mouth, and Draco wondered how it would feel to have his cock in the slick of Potter's mouth...

Slickness. Right. Lube. "Here," Draco grabbed his wand. "You have to lube yourself up, too," he pulled Potter's hand closer and cast the incantation once more.

Potter obediently began stroking himself, and Draco felt a wave of lust wash down his body. Fuck, that was sexy.

Potter noticed him looking and raised his eyebrows tauntingly. "You do want me, Draco," he smirked, and Draco gulped. Hearing his name falling from Potter's lips sent a surprising tingle up his spine. Maybe it really was a good thing, calling each other by their first names? He wondered if calling him 'Harry' would have the same effect as his 'Draco' had on him.

"Harry," he said slowly, experimentally, but his voice was husky from being touched and it came out as more of a moan than a word. The reaction was immediate: Potter's eyes widened, and he shuddered slightly. Harry. Harry. He could call him that, and it would make Harry dizzy, just as he'd made Draco. He decided he liked that immensely, and tried it again. "Harry…" he lingered on the syllables. "…fuck me." He pulled his legs, which had relaxed slightly without the need for penetration, back up to his chest.

Harry's hips jerked, and he licked his lips. "Okay." It wasn't until he shifted closer that Draco really thought about what was going to happen. His heartbeat quickened, both from arousal and—not fear, but possibly anxiety. He saw Harry lining his cock up with his own entrance, felt the head brush him. Gripping his thighs tightly, holding himself open, he squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'll go slow," Harry promised, and then something was pressing, pushing against his hole, trying to gain entrance. It was large, larger than he had anticipated. He wondered if he should have let Potter use his fingers for longer.

Somehow, somehow, it was going in. He was being stretched impossibly wide, and then there was a small pop, and he thought that the head might be in. Fuck, it was big. Draco almost let out a whine, but he held it in, focusing on breathing instead.

"It might… it might be better if you relaxed a little," Harry said, and Draco opened his eyes, looking up to see Harry's very concerned expression.

He took a breath, making sure his voice would be steady before he spoke. "Yeah, all right," he said, then attempted to relax the majority of his muscles.

"Good," Harry murmured, and then he was pushing forward again.

Further, further—Draco squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck, this hurt. He kept his mouth clamped shut, not wanting to show how scared, open, vulnerable he felt.

Harry reached a certain point, and then started pulling out again slowly. That was a little better, but not much. And then he was pushing more, and he was going further than before—

"Bloody fuck!" Draco couldn't hold back the exclamation.

"I'll stop," Harry said immediately, voice panicked. "I don't want to hurt you. I'll stop." He started pulling out, but Draco grabbed his hip.

"No, don't stop. It's not that bad," he lied. They couldn't stop now. This was too important—he wasn't about to fuck it up with his own inadequacy. "Keep going. I—I want it."

Harry looked like he still wanted to disobey, but eventually he shook his head. "Okay." And then the pushing resumed.

Draco glanced downward. He couldn't see much in this position, but he surmised that Harry was probably almost all of the way inside. A few more slow, probing thrusts, and then he felt Harry's hips touch his arse.

He dug his fingers into his thighs. It couldn't go any further, this was as bad as it was going to get.

Harry stopped moving for a minute, looking at him, breathing hard from the exertion of moving so slowly and keeping his weight off of Draco. One of his hands flitted up, stroking Draco's thigh. "You've gone soft," he said, trailing his fingers over Draco's cock.

"Sorry," Draco said, feeling slightly ashamed. He had read that this might happen, but still…

Harry shook his head. "It's not something to apologize about." He slid his gaze over at Draco, from his thighs to his flushed chest and face. That steady, strong gaze.

His eyes were violently green. Draco didn't know how that had escaped his notice before.

"Let me kiss you," Harry said. Draco frowned.

"No. I don't… no," he rejected, shaking his head.

"Why?" Harry asked, running his hand up and down Draco's thigh. Draco followed it with his eyes, suddenly uncertain.

"Feels… too intimate," he muttered quietly. Harry snorted, and Draco looked back up at his face.

"Draco, I've got my dick inside your arse, and you're saying that kissing is too intimate?"

Draco flushed. "I mean, it's… we're not, dating, or anything, so…"

"Please. I want to kiss you." Harry's eyes were wide with wanting, but he also looked worried, as if he might stop this all together if Draco said no.

Kissing. Maybe it wasn't so bad. People could kiss without being in love, right? And this was Harry, the man who had been his rival for years. He could kiss him. No emotional attachment required. Right? "I suppose… that would be acceptable," he finally agreed, and Potter smiled.

"Brilliant."

He felt him shifting carefully above him, maneuvering his legs so he could lean down, his face inching closer to Draco's. The cock that was still inside of him moved, too—it was angled differently, now, and Draco winced.

Harry's face was right there. Those green, green eyes were looking into Draco's, and his lips…

Draco's eyes shut, and then they were kissing. Harry's mouth was smooth, lips pillowy. Unexpectedly, his cock gave a surge of approval, and the pain diminished slightly. Harry's lips moved persuasively against his, almost as if the other man was saying words with no voice. This was actually… really good. He let a small moan escape.

Draco had honestly only kissed a few people in his lifetime. One of them was Pansy, and the encounter had been sloppy, not to mention that she was a girl, which put a damper on the whole thing anyway. The other was a French boy, the summer before sixth year. He had met him on vacation, and they'd spent a long time talking on the beach that day. At the end, there was a small, sweet kiss, but that boy didn't know him.

Harry knew him, he could tell, because that kiss had been nothing like this. It felt as if Harry's soul were pouring into his mouth. He opened his lips slightly, wondering if Harry's tongue would do—yes, that, would push inside and press against his own. Harry pulled back, and then kissed him again, again, and then Harry started to move.

The kissing made it almost bearable. At least Draco didn't have to worry about keeping his mouth shut; it would have been futile because Harry kept licking it open again and again. He heard Harry moan slightly, remembering wistfully that it felt supposedly felt _really good_ for Harry, and his cock twitched in interest. But then, with a particularly fast thrust, it deflated again. Draco held back a whimper.

"I'm close," he heard Harry say. Relief flooded Draco; it would be over soon. He let go of one of his legs, sliding his hand up Harry's back and into his hair, kissing him with renewed vigor.

"Mmph… Draco, Draco," Harry was saying. His thrusts became erratic, and Draco felt a sudden wetness inside of him as Harry shuddered.

Then it was over. Harry breathed once, twice, then lifted himself off of Draco, pulling out and flopping to the side. Draco allowed his legs to relax. His back hurt. His arse hurt worse.

He turned his head to the side to look at Harry, who had his eyes closed, breaths still coming fast.

A few minutes later, Harry looked back at him. "We should… clean up," he suggested. He looked at Draco's lips, and Draco wondered if he was going to kiss him, but he didn't. "Teach me the cleaning spell… I mean, I assume you don't use Scourgify for genitals," he said, and he smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Draco showed him, making the motion with his hand, not quite up to reaching for his wand. Harry rolled off of the bed. Draco watched the other man's pale arse as he bent over, pulled his wand out of his discarded trousers, and came back to the bed. He casting the charm on himself first, erasing the traces of his release. Then he crawled down near Draco's hips, putting a hand under Draco's thigh. Draco nodded in permission, allowing Harry to spread his legs once more so that he could cast the charm in the right area.

But he wasn't casting the charm. He was frowning instead. "What?" Draco asked.

"I think… you might be bleeding," Harry said, and Draco tensed. No. Fuck. This was the last thing he had wanted to happen. Cursing his former self for rushing Harry earlier, he made himself reach over for his wand, _Accio_ 'ing the Guide.

"There's… I think this happens sometimes," he said shakily, purposely omitting any explanation of why. "There's a charm, to fix it… there," he found the page, shoving the book over to Harry. "Can you…?"

Fuck, he hated blood. He always had. Pain was somewhat okay, as long as blood wasn't involved, but knowing he was bleeding had always made him queasy. He tried not to tremble as Harry practiced the charm carefully, then performed it.

Some of the pain in his arse went away. That was a little better. He heard Harry do the cleaning charm right afterwards, and he let out the breath he had been holding. It was okay now.

That… had been nothing like he had expected. Sudden tears tears began pricking at his eyes, and he trembled in disbelief. No, no, no, this wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to cry just because of—of s _ex_ , even if it had hurt. But, oh fuck, it was too late, tears were falling down his face. Mortified, he rolled over quickly so that Potter couldn't see.

Unfortunately, hiding his face didn't hide the fact that his shoulders were shaking. He heard Harry let out a long sigh. The bed dipped beside him, and a thump sounded as something (presumably the Guide) was pushed into the floor.

And then Harry was next to him, holding him. They were cuddling. They were cuddling, and they had kissed, and they had pretty much broken all of the rules that Draco had set for himself, and now he was crying, to boot.

"Go away," he tried to mumble, but Harry ignored it.

"I'm sorry, so sorry," he murmured instead, and Draco shook his head, fisting his hand into the pillow.

"No, it's… not your fault. Mine. I was stupid. Wanted it too fast." His pillow was getting damp. Damn it.

"Draco…" Harry sighed, pressing closer to him, his naked body warm and solid.

They were silent for a few moments, and then Harry started murmuring, almost too quietly for Draco to hear.

"You were beautiful," he said. "I'm glad that we did this. I'm sorry I hurt you, but you should at least know that it felt really good, for me."

Draco's heart rate was slowing. He should have known that Harry would be such a sap after sex. But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to mind. Harry's words were washing over him, and his body began to relax. It was… comforting.

"I didn't know what to think, when you first asked me to do this. To be honest, I was angry. After all we'd been through, you wanted to fuck just for the sake of getting it over with? But then you were staring at me, all the time, and even after you knew I knew, you didn't stop. And then, I got this idea in my head that you wanted me. And if you wanted me, it was a little more okay. It made me more than just a fuck, to you. Not in any sort of romantic way, but just something. And so I said yes. And, you know, I don't even know if you actually wanted me or not before tonight, but when I was touching you, you did. And that was so bloody hot."

Draco's tears had stopped. He felt Harry's hand stroking his hip, his thigh, and he swallowed. "I… I did. Want you, before. Just clearing that up," he admitted quietly.

Harry pressed closer. "I'm glad. I wanted you, too, after I thought about it enough. And especially over the break, when I knew what you wanted to do to me. I wanked, and I thought about it, how sexy you would look."

Draco's ears burned slightly. The words that had previously been calming were now becoming dirtier, more erotic. As much as he hated to admit it, Harry's voice was making his blood start to rush again.

"You were so fucking beautiful, with your legs pulled up for me. You let me push inside of you. Do you know how sexy that is?" said Harry, and then Draco was hard.

He shot a glance over his shoulder, and the bloody bugger was smiling. He _knew_ what he was doing to Draco. The hand that had been moving over his hip moved closer to his cock, then stilled. Harry looked at him.

"Can I…?" Harry asked, and Draco averted his eyes. For some reason, this seemed perverse after what had just happened. Harry wanted to touch him again? Even after Draco had bled and cried and tried to make him leave?

Harry wanted him. He had said it before, but the idea hadn't processed completely in Draco's mind until now. He looked at the other man, whose lips were curved into a smile, whose hand was resting innocently near his cock. His chest was still pressed against Draco's, but he had pulled his hips away—Draco looked down and saw that Harry was hard again, too.

"You didn't… you didn't finish. I want you to," Harry explained.

Draco bit his lip, then wordlessly grabbed Harry's hand and pressed it against his cock. He rolled onto his back, forcing Harry to shift to the side but allowing him easier access.

Harry's smile grew wide. "Mm, good, Draco. Am I allowed to keep talking?" he asked.

Harry wanted to keep saying those things to him. Harry wanted to talk dirty to him, while wanking him off. Oh, fuck.

Briefly, Draco wondered if it was possibly a bad thing, this visceral attraction that he was feeling for Harry. He dismissed the thought for later, though, because Harry didn't wait. He started talking again, his hand already stroking Draco's erection.

"You were standing by the closet when I walked in, and I couldn't keep myself from looking at your arse. You have an excellent arse, did you know? All I could think about was how you were going to let me fuck you. I was hard before you even turned around."

Harry removed his hand, but it was only a moment before it returned, slicked with lube. Draco groaned, grinding into the wetness. When had Harry even gotten at his wand? Draco didn't know.

"It feels wrong, but I liked it. Even though I knew it was hurting you, you told me to keep going, so I did, and it felt so _dirty_ , but you were hot and tight and I didn't want to stop. You let me orgasm inside of you. Merlin, that was hot. I'll be wanking to that for months."

Harry's hand was moving quickly, the slickness making it a thousand times better. The way Harry touched him was different than the way he touched himself, even though it was now at a similar angle, but good all the same.

"I want to make you orgasm like I did. I wouldn't mind, I think. If you fucked me. I'd let you come in my arse. We'd go slow, slower than this time, and it wouldn't be hurting you because you'd be fucking me. I'd like to see that. I bet you'd make a lot of noise. You'd throw your head back as you came, maybe shout my name…"

"Harry…" Draco wanted to protest, to say that this was supposed to be a one-time thing, but then Harry started wanking him faster and the words were lost in his throat.

His orgasm hit him suddenly, blindly—he barely felt it build up before it was rocketing through him, making his hips thrust upward and his blood burn down to his toes. He could hear Harry murmuring still, but words had temporarily lost all meaning.

The exertion made him limp and sweaty, and when the high finally left him, exhaustion slammed into him like he'd run into a wall. He looked over at Harry, whose cock was still hard, and tried to touch him, but Harry pushed his hand away. He watched as Harry took himself in hand, stroking himself one, two, three times before finishing with a gasp.

Good, then, they were even. Well, not really, since Harry had come twice now, but he supposed it didn't matter. They'd both felt good in the end, right?

A cleaning charm from Harry swept over his belly, wiping away the traces of his orgasm. He really was tired.

Harry curled up around him again, and he drifted to sleep.

-X-

The next day was very, very awkward. Draco had woken first, and, not sure what to do since Harry was still in his bed, he went into the bathroom and showered as quickly as possible. Harry was still sleeping when he grabbed his school bag and left for breakfast.

The soreness in his arse was still prominent, but the pain had numbed slightly. He wasn't as raw as he'd been the day before.

Draco ate at the breakfast table with Theo and Blaise. When he'd been on winter break, he'd considered asking them about their own sexual experiences after the deed was done, because he knew he'd have something to compare it to. But it didn't happen; he took one look at their hands entwined under the table and didn't say a word.

Acting normal under uncomfortable circumstances was something he could handle well. When Blaise asked him how he was doing with Harry as a roommate, he fed them a lie about not having said anything beyond hello. It was fine, he said, and not awkward to have his ex-rival in his room at all.

When Harry walked into the Great Hall, right before breakfast was supposed to be over, Draco forced himself to keep his eyes to his eggs—at least until Harry was seated and facing away. He glanced over. Harry's hair was messy as usual. He didn't look any different. He was smiling and laughing at something the Weasel had said. This could work, they could go on with their lives like this had never happened.

They didn't have any classes together that day, as Draco had no interest in Care of Magical Creatures, and Harry had never taken Arithmancy to begin with. There was no reason to speak to each other until it was nighttime, and Draco was studying, and Harry came back into the room.

Draco's heart betrayed him, starting to quicken, and he willed it to slow. It was just Harry. His new roommate. He tried to focus on the numbers in front of him, but they began swimming in his vision as he heard Harry shuffling around on the other side of the room.

His shoulders were tense. He heard Harry come closer, near his bed, and stop.

"Can I borrow this?" he heard him say, and he turned around to see Harry scooping the Guide off of the floor.

"Whatever. Just don't spill anything on it," he said, pressing all manner of nonchalance into his voice. Harry gave him a strange look, then mumbled his thanks and retreated to the other side of the room.

Neither of them spoke again that night.

-X-

Harry was pushing him against the wall. Draco really wasn't sure how they had gotten here, but they were in the Potions classroom after the others had left, and Harry was kissing him. He could feel the other man's cock against his—they were already naked, and that made everything so much better. He drank in the kisses with a delighted sigh. Then Harry stopped.

He was staring at his Mark. He started shaking his head. "No, this isn't right, he mumbled.

"Wait. I thought you didn't care?" Draco asked, but Harry was already backing away.

"This isn't right," Harry repeated, and then an explosion sounded in the doorway, and Harry started screaming, turning around to face the imminent danger. Draco looked around wildly—what was going on?—and then back at Harry, but he realized with horror that Harry was on the floor, and one of his arms was missing. There was blood, so much blood, and Draco felt like vomiting.

Harry was still screaming. Draco woke up.

He was drenched in sweat, and even though he was now awake, the terrified screams hadn't stopped. His heart clenched in fear, and he sat up, whipping his head over to Harry's bed.

Harry was asleep, and he was screaming. He was having a nightmare, just like Draco.

Sliding out of bed quickly, he went to Harry's bedside and tried to shake him awake. It took a moment. All of a sudden, he felt Harry's shoulders relax, and the brunet opened his eyes.

"What's going on?" he mumbled, taking stock in the situation. His eyes widened. "Shite, sorry. I was reading before bed and I forgot to cast the silencing charms. I woke you up, didn't I? Fucking nightmares," he spat, seeming extremely annoyed with himself.

Draco pulled his hands away from Harry's shoulders, perching on the edge of the bed. "Is it that common?" he asked, looking at the floor.

"Er, yeah. Every night. Sorry, I normally remember the charms, I swear." Harry sat up, pressing his forehead into his palms. "I guess Blaise didn't mention it? He might have forgotten, I think I only forgot to Silence myself once last semester."

"You get them every night?" Draco repeated.

Harry gave him another odd look. It seemed that Harry was forever giving him odd looks since they had made their agreement. Or maybe he just thought they were odd, because most of the expressions that Harry had made at him had been angry, before now.

"Yeah. Always. It's shite," Harry mumbled.

"I know. Me, too," Draco admitted after a short silence.

"At least you don't scream," Harry said, sighing through his nose. They sat for a moment, not looking at each other.

Something occurred to Draco. "You said every night… but did you, last night?" he asked. "Because I didn't."

Harry looked at him, contemplating it. "I don't think so, no." He shrugged. "Must have been the sex, I guess."

"Yeah," Draco agreed. He yawned. "I think it's still early. I'm going to go back to sleep." He stood up, shuffling back into bed.

"Good night, then," Harry said, as Draco heard him lying back down.

"Good night."

-X-

Draco pulled back the tapestry which housed the entrance to one of his favorite shortcuts to the dungeons, then immediately groaned. "Seriously, I thought the entire point of switching rooms was so that I _wouldn't_ be walking in on you two!"

Blaise, on his knees and in the process of unfastening Theo's trousers, shrugged. "Sorry, chap. You can walk past us, you know."

Draco rolled his eyes, shouldering past and making his way through the small passageway. Bloody exhibitionists. He heard a stifled moan from behind him and walked even faster, pushing through the tapestry at the other end and making his way to the Potions classroom.

This was, without a doubt, his favorite class. He loved how challenging it was, how everything was precise and neat, how the colors changed and the steam swirled. He had worked very hard this year, and after weeks of helping with ingredients after class, Slughorn had finally started viewing him favorably.

Today, they were finally brewing Amortentia. Slughorn was keeping a diligent eye on the class, just to make sure that none of them walked off with a sample.

Steam hissed from Draco's cauldron as he added the final ingredient and stirred it once. He waited. Slowly, slowly, the steam settled, then began twisting back and forth. Holding his breath, he looked down into the cauldron.

Mother-of-pearl sheen. _Yes_. He almost shouted with joy—he had done it, had brewed one of the most finicky, difficult potions in existence. He finally allowed himself to glance around the classroom. Most of the other students were sitting at their desks with empty cauldrons, having failed their potions through various mishaps. None of the ingredients were volatile enough to cause a particularly violent reaction, but the whole process was extremely time-sensitive, with many, many ingredient additions.

Harry was still working, he realized, at the desk next to Granger's. How odd. He glanced at their cauldrons—Granger was just getting ready to add the last ingredient, and she did so, smiling openly when it succeeded.

Harry was a little behind—he was having trouble chopping the gurdyroot properly, Draco noted. Harry finished that step, finally, then looked around the classroom furtively. Noting that everyone else was done, he hastened with the rest of the steps—the last part was the easiest—and Draco saw him let out a breath of relief when it turned out well.

"Well done, you three!" Slughorn said, coming around to view (and smell) their cauldrons. "Just like crystallized pineapple and mulled mead," he laughed jovially. "Everyone, gather around a cauldron and smell it. Those of you whose potions failed, write a foot-long essay that includes what step your potion went wrong and why, as well as the scents you smell from the completed potions. And you three," he gestured to Draco, Harry, and Granger, "Stopper up a vial of your potion. No homework for you!"

Draco spelled some potion into a vial, handing it to Slughorn as he passed by. Waiting for the others to come by and smell his brew, he watched as Granger chattered to Harry excitedly.

To be honest, he was a little bit nervous about smelling the potion directly. He hadn't smelled Amortentia since it had last been displayed in Slughorn's classroom, and the war had tainted some of the scents that he used to love. The smell of his Mother's laundry charms only reminded him of the Death Eaters now, and the smell of the Christmas roast concocted by the House Elves made him slightly queasy as well—watching Voldemort sloppily shove it down into his disfigured mouth had achieved that well enough.

He readied himself, making sure no one was looking at him, and leaned forward, breathing in the mist. Oh, that did smell good. The Quidditch Pitch, still, but two new scents: Shepherd's Pie had replaced the Christmas roast, and as for the laundry charms…

He looked up, accidentally meeting Harry's eyes, and had to force his eyes down again, blinking quickly. Fuck. What did that even mean? Why would he be smelling Harry in his Amortentia? Because there was no doubt in his mind that Harry was where the other new scent had come from.

As he Vanished the potion and started cleaning up, he thought about what he had experienced lately with the other man, from deciding to proposition him, to last night and the nightmares.

He didn't love him. He knew that for sure—there was a series of complex feelings related with Harry that he had yet to even begin untangling. He may just possibly be becoming fond of Harry, though, and he had no idea how he felt about it.

-X-

"This is pretty interesting," Harry said, holding up the Guide as Draco walked into the room from dinner. "The expanding Chapter feature is really neat. It keeps clarifying things I don't understand until I know exactly what it means."

Draco nodded slowly in agreement. It felt embarrassing, for some reason, to have Harry poring through the same book that he had devoured over break. However, he did have to admit that he had skipped probably more of the 'Preparation' section than he should have, opting to skim the entire thing instead.

"I meant what I said the other night," Harry said, after Draco had put away his school things.

"Which part?" Draco eyed him, raising an eyebrow. "You said quite a lot, if you didn't remember," he said, then wondered if maybe he shouldn't be lacing his words with sarcasm when talking about something so intimate.

"You know," Harry said, and then waited until Draco had looked up to continue. "The part about having you fuck me."

Oh Merlin. He had forgotten about that particular murmur, lost as he had been in Harry's words and hands, and remembering things said late at night had never been his forte, anyway. He must have looked as surprised as he felt, because Harry backtracked immediately.

"I mean, I know you said it was a one-time thing, so we don't have to. I was just letting you know," he said quickly, bowing his head a little.

Draco still wasn't sure what to say. Part of him wanted Harry. That part would always be there, now, the part that had kissed him and came undone by his hand and laid by his side in the aftermath. The other part was skeptical. He didn't want a romantic relationship. This, he had known from the beginning. Romance made him vulnerable. He knew it well, had experienced it on the day with the French boy in which he had come very close to spilling all of his secrets. And vulnerability was something he desperately hated—which was part of the reason he had disliked the other night so much. It was only his desire to try sex and see what the fuss was about, and later his pride, that had pushed him to go through with it.

Which reminded him: it had really bloody hurt. "Why do you want to do that, anyway? It's… painful," he said.

"I read a lot about it yesterday," Harry said, setting the Guide down and moving from his desk chair to sit on his bed, facing Draco. Hesitantly, Draco sat opposite of him, his bed creaking slightly as he settled onto it.

"And?" he asked, tilting his head.

"I know loads more now. About preparation, and lube, and other things. Finding your prostate. How to make it feel good. And I… I want to try it."

"Are you sure? Do you what you're getting into?" Draco frowned slightly. "I'd really rather not hurt you…" Because then Potter would be an insufferable roommate, he justified.

"It'll be all right, I think. Besides," he said, then blushed slightly. "I think… I think that I'm more of… more of a bottom, than a top. It sounds… better. Not being in control, I mean." He shrugged, studying his socked feet.

"With me?" Draco asked. "Do you really… want me to do that, to you? Me, of all people? It was different, when you were topping, but… I could hurt you!" he protested, feeling unhappy and not quite knowing why.

"I don't think you will. As much as it goes against the last seven years of my life… I trust you with this. We've already done it once. What's another time, just with a small change?" Harry smiled slightly, looking almost shy. "And it's convenient, now that we're roommates. We could experiment with things, and we wouldn't have to worry about other people."

Experimenting, he could deal with. He let out a breath of relief. Harry didn't want a relationship. He just wanted sex. And that was something that he could do.

But still… "How do you know that I won't hurt you, on accident, then?"

Harry bit his lip. "I—it'll be okay, I think. I'll tell you if it hurts, and we can stop."

Draco considered, then nodded slowly. "Are… are you going to want kissing again?" he asked tentatively.

"Well… yeah, if you don't mind. It feels weird without it, drives me barmy." Harry shrugged. "It doesn't have to mean anything, if that's what you don't like about it."

Draco nodded, contemplating the idea. "So… we have sex. And the way you're saying it, you want to do other things, too?"

"I could use the experience, frankly," Harry smiled self-deprecatorily. "Seeing as what happened the other night wasn't particularly good for you…"

"That was probably my fault," Draco shook his head. When he had started admitting to being at fault for things, he didn't know, but it was probably the Gryffindor rubbing off on him already. Besides, if he made Harry feel better about himself, then Harry would have more sex with him, which was something that Draco could appreciate.

"If you say so. How about it?" Harry offered.

Draco hesitated, though he wasn't sure why—he already knew that he was going to say yes. "…Fine. But not every night. I do have homework to do. And you better not tell anyone about this," he added as a precaution.

"All right, then."

Harry cast a Tempus charm—it was about an hour before Draco generally went to bed.

"So, d'you want to do it now?" Harry suggested, and grinned.

In that moment, Draco realized that Harry was quite a conniving man. He shouldn't have been so surprised—he had heard the Harry give sassy retorts to Snape, back in the day, but he hadn't _really_ thought about what that meant about Harry's character up until this point.

Quickly, he assessed the state of his homework—now that he didn't have Potions to worry about, it was mostly complete. "Fine." He swallowed.

Harry nodded eagerly, motioning for Draco to come join him on his bed, then started unbuttoning his shirt.

Draco took initiative—he wasn't going to have this be as bloody awkward as it had been last time. He stood up, keeping eye contact with Harry and watching the other man's breath hitch as he stalked smoothly over. He climbed up onto the bed and straddled Harry, and he could have sworn that Harry smirked slightly just before the man fisted a hand in his hair and kissed him.

Their clothes came off quickly. Draco suspected that there had been some sneaky charm work in with the mix, but he didn't care, because by the time he had pushed Harry down flat on the bed, they were naked. He did have to admit that it was intuitive to kiss at this point, and the whole thing felt much more cohesive because of it.

They shifted so that they were laying in the correct orientation on the bed, and Draco picked up his wand from his discarded pants. He looked at Harry questioningly. Harry bit his lip, slowly rolling over onto his hands and knees, pushing his arse into the air in front of Draco.

"Do what you want with me," he said, looking back over his shoulder at Draco with that gaze of his. Draco moaned slightly. It seemed that Harry now had a better idea of what he himself wanted, and even though Draco was in charge, he felt that Harry was somehow pulling the strings.

It wasn't an entirely bad feeling.

He slicked up his fingers, then aimed a cleaning charm at Harry's arsehole, adding an extra lubrication charm for good measure. His erection pulsed with desire when Harry quivered in response.

Resolving to take his time and go as slow as possible, he started to push a finger in. It was tighter than he had expected it to be around just one finger. Harry had turned his head again and was watching him, brow lowered slightly.

"Have you done this to yourself before?" Draco asked, pulling the tip of his finger out and massaging the outside of the ring before pushing it in again.

"No," Harry said. "It's… you were right, it is very strange, but… It also feels kind of good," he admitted openly.

"Really?" Draco cocked his head, beginning to make a thrusting motion so that he could work the finger in farther. "Glad that one of us feels that way," he remarked, partially in jest.

Harry frowned. "Was I really that bad?"

"No, it wasn't you, I think. I had done it to myself a bit, and I didn't quite get it then, either," he shrugged. "Not that you were great either, Potter, so don't let it go to your head," he added, smirking slightly.

Harry chuckled. "All right, I won't. Why 'Potter'?"

"Hmm? Oh, I don't know. It just feels more natural to call you Potter when I'm making fun of you," he shrugged, becoming temporarily distracted at the realization that his finger had made it all the way inside. "That was faster than I expected… I'm not hurting you, am I?" he frowned.

"What? No, you're not. It's… it's good," Harry assured him, biting that lip again. "I'm really relaxed, so maybe that helps? It's nice to, you know, talk about stuff. Keeps my mind off of the weirdness, and then it just ends up feeling good."

Draco nodded, and started adding another finger, advancing it just as slowly. "How'd you manage to brew the Amortentia correctly?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I have this textbook… And to be honest, I'm not sure why I still have it, because I… I lost it in the Room of Requirement. And one day last summer, when we were rebuilding Hogwarts, it just appeared on my bed."

Draco experienced a small tinge of _sadness guilt nausea_ at the mention of the ROR, but brushed it away, hyperfocusing on the way his fingers looked ( _so hot_ ) when they were pushing into Harry. "What's so special about it?"

"It's… wow, this is actually really not going to be a very fun conversation for you, are you sure you want to know?" Harry's brow was creased, and Draco considered it, and nodded slowly.

"Might as well. If it's… if it's going to be hard, then you might as well do it when I'm too horny to hex you, right?" he drawled, trying to joke but secretly a bit anxious.

"All right. Well, it was Snape's old book. It has all this extra stuff written in it, modifications he made that make potions better. And… some other things," he added quickly, and then tried to move on, but Draco stopped him.

"Things like what?" he asked stubbornly. Now that Harry was talking, he wanted to know.

"Things like… fuck, are you going to make me say it?" Draco nodded in response. "Fine. Like the spell that did that to you," he said, motioning at Draco's chest.

He blinked at himself, then understood. A lump formed in his throat. "Oh, fuck. Really? He came up with that?"

"Yeah. And I swear, I had no idea what it did, so," he breathed out quickly. "Anyway, I cleared it with Slughorn, and he said he might as well let me use it this year, so that's why I've been getting by in Potions. I've been studying too, though, I'll have you know," he shrugged.

Draco swallowed. That was certainly… an enlightenment. His erection had started to soften, and he looked down at his fingers. They were both all the way in, now. He thrust them gently in and out. "So that's why you were so good at Potions in sixth year," he murmured, avoiding the topic that had made him cringe. It was in the past, now. He had no desire to get angry at Harry right this moment, not when Harry was splayed open before him like this. He started circling his fingers around absentmindedly.

"Yeah, it is. Erm… I'm sorry, for, you know, do—oh, fuck!" Harry swore suddenly, and Draco almost pulled his fingers straight out in horror.

"What? Did I hurt you?" he asked, mouth going dry.

"No! No, I think… I think you found… my prostate. Do that again," Harry murmured, watching him steadily.

"This?" Draco said, pushing his fingers back to the spot they had been in and pressing down. Harry clenched slightly, letting out a hiss.

"Yes… that," he said shakily. Draco looked down, smirked, and did it again.

Now that he was concentrating, he could feel a small nub, and he focused on pressing against it, thrusting with his fingers. Harry's breath was coming out more quickly now. Draco saw his hands fisting into the sheets. Slowly, making sure it wasn't too rough, he added a third finger. Hearing Harry gasp, just because of what he was doing to him, was incredibly hot. He was hardening again to the point where it was almost painful.

"Ah… that's really good," Harry said. "You might… how many fingers do you have in? I can't see," he attempted to stretch his neck, but gave up.

"Three," Draco said, emphasizing that by wiggling them slightly. Harry hissed again.

"I think it'd be okay if you fucked me, now," Harry said.

Of all the people that he could have decided to have sex with, of course he had picked the one with the most unexpectedly, gloriously dirty mouth. He pulled his fingers out, hastening to slick himself, staring the whole time at Harry's arse. The brunet had spread his legs even further. Draco swallowed.

"Are you sure you're ready?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes, Draco, just do it," Harry replied, wanting, pushing his hips backward to emphasize the point.

Draco lined himself up and pushed ever so slowly against Harry. It started going in much faster than he had expected, and he forcibly slowed the movement of his hips. He would make this good for him; his pride was at stake.

"Yes, go on," Harry said, and Draco's heart thrummed excitedly.

He pushed in a little more, then pulled out, starting a slow thrusting motion. Harry was so, so tight, and hot, and all he could ever want in this moment. He moaned, wanting to move faster, but not wanting to hurt him. "Is that okay?" he asked.

"Fuck, yes," Harry replied emphatically, and pressed himself against Draco's hips. Draco gasped as the motion forced him in one, two inches, and he had to hurriedly pinch himself at the base in order to not orgasm in that moment.

"That… that doesn't hurt?" he asked, breathing heavily.

"Not really. You prepared me really well," Harry said, and tossed a grin over his shoulder.

Draco's heart stuttered. He thrust again, again, and then he was all the way in and thrusting for real. It was made even better by the fact that Harry was pressing back at him, meeting him for each thrust. He moaned openly, at a loss for words.

He bent further over Harry, reaching his hand around to blindly grasp for Harry's cock. As he did so, Harry made that hissing noise, and Draco smirked until he was reduced to moaning again.

"Did I… did I hit it?" he asked, and Harry nodded, then leaned forward, pressing his face into the pillow.

He was determined, now, to make Harry finish first, though he didn't know if it was even possible. His hand was slightly lubed from slicking himself up before, and he used that to his advantage, stroking Harry quickly.

He was close, too close, and then Harry's hips stilled and his arse clenched and Draco was gone.

When he came back, he was still in the same position, except that they were now closer to lying down than on their knees. His body felt heavy, so heavy over Harry's. Briefly wondering if it was possible to lose consciousness after orgasm, he pulled out carefully, laying down on his side next to Harry and waiting for the verdict.

"That…" Harry said, breath catching, "was bloody brilliant." He grinned.

Draco was slightly stunned. He had managed to make Harry feel good. He was a little jealous, honestly, that Harry had gotten so much out of bottoming, though not jealous enough for it to ruin his enjoyment of it all. "You… you finished, right?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned. "That was fucking great," he reaffirmed, rolling over onto his back. "Wow. I'm a little sore, but it's not bad. I'd definitely do that again," he added, eyeing Draco's cock, and Draco's eyes widened.

"Not—not now, I'm actually pretty tired," he said quickly, and Harry laughed.

"I'm joking, Draco. Not now. But I hope that felt nice for you too, because that was really great," he grinned again, and then he was curling up against Draco and closing his eyes.

It seemed that Harry was quite the cuddler, but Draco couldn't bring himself to mind, not when the sex had been that spectacular. He shifted into a more comfortable position, hesitantly laid his arm over Harry, and went to sleep.

-X-

Draco woke up to green eyes and a sleepy smile. He blinked slowly. Yes, that was Harry, all right. He blinked again. "Were you watching me sleep?" he mumbled.

"Sort of. I just woke up," Harry said, and then yawned to punctuate his point.

Draco's wand alarm began to buzz, and he reached over to the bedside table to make it stop. "We should get ready for breakfast," he said, rubbing his eyes, "and shower and all that."

Harry wiggled his eyebrows. "Oh? Shower together?" he asked, smirking.

Draco glared at him. "No, Potter, not together, you git. And just for that, I'm going first."

Harry chortled behind him as he pushed himself out of bed, padding over to the bathroom and shutting the door. _Honestly_.

-X-

The end of the week brought with it a pile of homework for both boys, and Harry was out for most of the weekend—probably at the library, Draco supposed. He himself was happy enough to be in the room without having to worry about Blaise and Theo's sexual escapades. When Sunday night rolled around, he had completed everything that was due in the next three days, and he allowed himself to relax after dinner, nicking the Guide from Harry's desk and resolving to delve deeper into the chapters about topping. If they were going to continue experimenting, as it were, he wanted to know more about what to do. So that he could make it good for Harry, of course.

He paused in the middle of a discussion of proper thrusting techniques, half-hard from looking at the pictures. There were voices beyond the door, coming closer. One, he could recognize, was Harry—the other was female. Granger, perhaps? Well, shite, if it was Granger, she was probably going to come into the room. He hurriedly replaced the book in front of him with his already-finished Herbology essay.

They were close enough to make out actual words, now.

"Why do you want me to wait outside?" That was the female voice—definitely Granger.

"I mean, you wouldn't want to interrupt Draco studying, right?"

"I'm quiet enough. We'll only be in there for a minute, anyhow. Besides, since when do you call him Draco?"

Draco heart skipped a beat. She knew, she knew, and now the whole school was going to know—

"Since we became roommates?" Harry countered, covering well.

"I suppose," Granger said, though she still sounded skeptical. Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

The door handle turned. Harry stepped in, head turned back over his shoulder. "Look, I'll just be a minute," he said.

Merlin, Draco was going to have to be _nice_ , wasn't he? As much as he loathed to admit it, he and Harry had to be friends now, at least somewhat. Because you don't fuck your enemies like they had fucked last night. And… friends were friends to each other's friends, at least a bit. Well, maybe not the Weasel. But Granger, though a know-it-all, wasn't honestly all that bad once you got past all of the Muggle-born rot that his father had subscribed to.

He sighed. "She can come in," he said, looking back down at his essay. "I'm just proofreading."

Though he couldn't see him, he knew that Harry's eyes were trained on him. "All right," Harry said, and he heard the door swing open wider.

"Hullo, Malfoy," Granger said. He mumbled a hullo in response, pretending to be absorbed in his essay. "Well, it's actually very clean in here!" Granger continued. She sounded surprised, and Draco couldn't resist looking up at that.

He surveyed the room quickly. It wasn't _that_ clean—his desk was a bit cluttered, and there were a few of Harry's socks on the floor. "It's not, really," he said, confused.

Granger laughed. "You should have seen Harry's room for the past seven years. It's always a pig sty," she chuckled fondly.

Harry, who was fiddling with his desk drawers, looking for something, scowled. "It wasn't that bad," he retorted.

"Compared to this? It was pretty bad." Granger perched daintily on Harry's bed, meeting Draco's eyes and rolling her own.

There was tension. Not as much as there could have been, but it was there. The image of he and Granger tiptoeing around each other in a dark hallway appeared in his mind, and he fought the urge to snort.

He glanced at Harry, who had yet another odd expression on his face. Looking around the room again, he realized—Harry was keeping it clean for him. Not as a favor, or anything, but probably because he had noticed Draco's neatness, and then followed suit. Still, he was doing something (sort of) for Draco. He hadn't even had to ask. It felt kind of nice.

Granger and Harry were arguing about something now, and he realized that he had zoned out completely.

"You've been avoiding us lately," Granger was saying. "You've been in here most of the time, or in the library. You've been going there more than I have!"

"I have a lot of homework," Harry defended stubbornly. He was still rummaging around in his desk drawers. "I eat with you guys, don't you?"

"You should come sit in the Common room more often," Granger wheedled, dismissing Harry's words.

Harry was really uncomfortable. Draco could tell; he had spent half of his lifetime making Harry angry and uncomfortable. Should he say something? It wasn't really his place, though, was it?

Granger crossed her arms again, opening her mouth to say more, and it was the look on Harry's face that decided it for him. "What are the properties of Snargaluff pods as applied to potions?" he blurted out quickly, and the two Gryffindors stopped talking.

Harry blinked at him, shrugging. Granger, though, Granger eyed him shrewdly, looking down at his essay, then back up at him.

Fuck, he had just said the first thing that came to mind. That wasn't even the topic of the essay, and of course Granger would know that, seeing as they were all in the same Herbology class.

"They're a minor component in some burn potions. They're also used in the Draught of Living Death as a cooling element," Granger explained slowly.

Draco nodded, but didn't bother pretending to write anything on his essay. She had already caught his bluff. "I wasn't sure."

Harry had appeared to find the notebook he was looking for, but Granger was still looking at him. What did she want?

Maybe… maybe he should apologize. For their past, and for stealing Harry's innocence from right under her nose. But how?

"Sorry… for interrupting, that is," he said, leaving a big enough space for his intent to be made clear.

Granger narrowed her eyes at him, then smiled softly. She had gotten it, then. "I forgive you," she said.

The tension dropped, and Draco was suddenly grounded again. That was much better. There was no use trying to be nice with an elephant in the room fucking it all up. Harry was looking at them strangely, and Granger grabbed his arm.

"Come on, Harry. Let's leave Draco alone," she said, tugging gently at Harry. They exited the room, leaving Draco staring at the door.

-X-

Draco woke up in the middle of the night a few days later, heart racing from his most recent nightmare. More often than not, they involved Harry, lately. It was one of the downsides of rooming with him, he supposed.

He squinted over through the darkness at Harry's bed, wondering if he was awake yet. Their internal clocks seemed to run on a similar schedule, as it was not uncommon for both of them to wake up from bad dreams within minutes of the other. They had become much better at shared silences since the phenomenon had begun.

It seemed that Harry was already awake, if his breathing patterns were anything to go by. Oddly enough, though, the other man's breath sounded shorter than usual.

Then, he heard it, the soft, repetitive sound of flesh against flesh.

He looked over, squinting into the darkness. The git was wanking!

He sat up, pushing his legs over the side of the bed. "What are you doing?"

Harry jumped at the sudden noise. "Er, what's it look like?"

Draco stared at the obvious, slowly moving bulge under the covers. Harry was hard, under there. And touching himself. He swallowed. "Don't you have any sense of decorum?"

"Why? I wouldn't have thought that it would bother you, since we've had sex and all…"

Draco blinked. He shouldn't be bothered by it, because it was honestly rather hot…

It was just that he would rather be the one touching Harry.

He stood up, walking over to Harry's bed. Harry reached for his glasses, and then watched as Draco leaned over and slowly began to pull down the covers.

Harry's lips spread into a slow, wide grin. "You think you can do better?" he taunted, hitching a smooth ride onto Draco's train of thought.

"I do," Draco said. Harry's chest was bare, and as he pulled the blanket all the way down, it caught on Harry's hand, which was still gently clasped around his cock.

Harry raised his eyebrows, then stroked himself again, leisurely. "I don't know. Your hand does the exact same thing as mine does," he shrugged. "I was doing just fine before you came over here."

Draco pulled himself onto the bed. "My hand might," he said, "but my mouth does more."

Harry stilled, eyes widening, and nodded in approval. He sat up, tilting his head slowly toward Draco's. He could feel Harry's breath, see the pores in his skin. Their lips touched, briefly, gently, barely enough for him to feel Harry whisper, "Oh, really, now?"

Draco raised his eyebrows. He gave Harry a gentle push, and as Harry laid back down, he crawled lower, lower, his face nearly brushing Harry's stomach.

Then, trying not to think about it too much, he pressed his lips to Harry's erection.

They both stilled, and Draco wrapped his hand around the wet, leaking hardness at his lips. Taking a steadying breath, he licked the head tentatively, then again, again. Harry let out a long sigh. Fuck, this was hot. He stroked Harry's cock a few times, slowly, and then took it into his mouth.

It didn't go very far—he started to gag when it reached the entrance to his throat, and he hurriedly pulled back, as gagging was far from dignified. He pulled off for a moment, stealing a glance at Harry. Ah, that was good: Harry's lips were parted, and his eyes were wide.

"Keep going," Harry encouraged him, and Draco complied.

He tried to keep in mind the tricks the Guide had mentioned, keeping his teeth from scraping too much and trying to combine licking and sucking. It was hard not to focus on his own erection, straining against his pants unattended, but he managed to keep his mind solely on Harry. It was messy—his hand was soon slick with spit, and his jaw was soon a little sore, but watching Harry clench his hands against the sheets was enough to convince him to continue.

It was only a few moments before Harry let out a harsh gasp. "Fuck, Draco, I'm going to—," he said, and then he came. Draco was caught by surprise, his mouth still wrapped around that lovely cock. Acting on instinct, he swallowed the bitter liquid that hit his tongue. He wrinkled his nose. The taste was truly not very pleasant.

He looked up to gauge Harry's expression. Harry was grinning again. Draco thought that it was rather an odd sort of thing to do, after sex—shouldn't one be serious, reserved? Because that's how Draco always felt.

"You look rather happy," he muttered, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

"That's because I just had a particularly good orgasm," Harry said smugly. A sense of pride shot through Draco—he had made Harry come undone, just with his mouth.

"Well, as long as you intend to reciprocate, later," he said, standing up to go back to bed, but Harry caught his wrist.

"You mean, now?" Harry said, and tugged his pajama bottoms slightly down.

Draco flushed. He hadn't actually been expecting it right this moment—he had assumed that Harry would be too tired, but he certainly wasn't going to turn it down.

He allowed Harry to tug his clothing off, laying down on the bed. Harry reached for his cock, stroking it slowly.

"Would you mind…" Harry said, and he was doing the lip-biting thing again. "…would you mind if we tried a different position?"

"It doesn't matter to me," Draco shrugged, and it really didn't matter, he just wanted those mesmerizing lips on his cock.

"Here, then," Harry said, sitting up against the headboard. He motioned for Draco to straddle him.

"How is this supposed to work?" Draco asked quizzically.

"Up on your knees," Harry guided him, and he moved into position, albeit hesitantly.

"Are you sure you want it like this?" he asked. His cock was level with Harry's mouth, yes, but Harry was also pressed against the headboard, which limited the range of motion that his head could move in. Which meant…

"Yes. I want you to fuck my mouth," Harry said, looking up at him honestly, eagerly.

His first thought was that Harry was incredibly sexy. However, as he had just been privy to, blowjobs took some getting used to, and wouldn't doing it like this just end up making Harry gag?

Harry gave him almost no time to consider it, though, as he grabbed Draco's hips and pulled him right up to his face. Draco tried to object. Harry simply grinned, then parted his lips, taking him into his mouth.

Draco fought the immediate urge to jerk his hips further into the wet heat. He gasped, clutching at Harry's shoulders. "Fuck! Harry, are you really sure?" he asked. Harry declined to answer, instead taking Draco's hands and placing them firmly against his head.

Tentatively, Draco curled his hands into the hair that laid under his fingers. Harry gave a small nod, and Draco's heart pumped even faster. He pulled out slightly. Then slowly, slowly, he pushed back in.

Harry made an impatient noise, and how he was managing to convey annoyance with Draco's cock inside his mouth, Draco wasn't sure. Harry grasped at his hips again, forcing him into a faster pace.

"Merlin," Draco breathed. His eyes closed, and he finally let himself go, thrusting his hips in earnest. An appreciative noise came from Harry below him. He groaned in response.

This… this was good. It was less intense than sex, but only just. Harry sometimes pressed his teeth against him too hard, and Draco was almost certain that he was pushing too roughly, but the slickness around him refused to allow him to stop.

The pressure in him was building, faster, faster. "Harry—!" he gave a garbled shout, and his body imploded.

And then Harry choked.

Draco became cognizant of the fact and pulled out immediately. Fluids spilled down Harry's chin as he coughed.

"Oh, fuck—Harry!" Draco sank down his knees next to him, picking up his wand and, frantically trying to remember the lung-clearing spell that they had learned in the Medical Charms unit. Thankfully, Harry's coughing began to subside.

Draco aimed a cleaning charm at Harry, then slumped onto the pillows. "Are you all right? Merlin, Harry…"

Harry gave a last few shuddering coughs, then let out a large breath. "I'm all right," he said finally, sliding down next to Draco. "…That was good," he remarked.

Draco opened his mouth with astonishment. "Potter, you can't be serious! You just choked!"

Harry shook his head quickly, looking at him like he was an idiot. "Not that part! Obviously. The part before that. When you let go, and you were pushing into my throat, and moaning. That was sexy."

"That was…" Draco swallowed, shame rising over him. "That was a mistake. I'm not doing that again." He had stopped thinking almost entirely about whether or not he was hurting the sod, only thinking about himself. He was sure, now that he had hurt Harry, because there was no way that having something shoved that far down his throat had felt good…

"What d'you mean? I _wanted_ that," Harry said, eyes solemn and serious.

Draco squinted at him. "I was _hurting_ you."

"It wasn't that bad," Harry protested. "I… I liked it." Suddenly seeming embarrassed, he fumbled below them for the covers, lifting himself up to get at them. He slid into bed, holding the covers up for Draco, as well.

Bloody Gryffindor, always wanting to cuddle. Draco sighed and relented, letting Potter touch him, pull him closer.

"I think… I like that kind of thing," Harry said, his voice almost a whisper. "Not the choking thing. Just, the having you in control over me thing. It's really... it's really bloody sexy. I don't mind if you don't like it, though. I just thought I'd let you know."

"It's not that I don't like it…" Draco said, then paused, trying to collect his thoughts. "But isn't it painful?"

Harry gave a little laugh. "To be honest, it kind of hurt when we had sex."

Draco opened his mouth to express his displeasure, but Harry put a hand up to his jaw and pushed it closed.

"No, don't apologize. It was a good hurt. Because that was the best orgasm I've ever had in my life," he said. The grin on his face afterwards confirmed that he was telling the truth, and a small shiver raced up Draco's spine. Involuntarily, he shifted closer to Harry's warmth.

"You like it? Pain?" Draco squinted at him.

"…Kind of. Not too much. But a little bit is fine. That's not really the point, though. I like it when you… when you dominate me," he said, averting his eyes, flushing. "The pain is just a side effect."

Draco's mind's eye suddenly focused on what had been a rather long chapter on the book, one that he had read thoroughly. _Dominance and Submission_. He would have bet ten Galleons that Harry had also read it in its entirety.

Now, he understood. He looked at Harry, then carefully transformed his expression into his best smirk. "You want to submit to me, Potter," he said it as a statement.

Harry's pupils dilated, and against his hip, Draco could feel Harry starting to harden. "Y-yes," he said. "That's it." He swallowed, and Draco watched his Adam's apple bob sharply.

Smoothly, Draco rolled over on top of Harry, pressing their hips together, hovering slightly over Harry's face. "Like this?" he said, thrusting slightly for good measure. Harry's eyes rolled back into his head, and he let out a shuddery gasp.

"Fuck, yes," he mumbled.

Harry's body was so responsive; it was intoxicating. He placed his hands over Harry's, pressing them against the bed, and then leaned down to put his lips near Harry's ear. "Can you get off like this?"

Harry hesitated, then gave a small nod. "I-I think so."

"Then do it," Draco smirked. He put his mouth against Harry's neck, the groan Harry gave moving straight through his lips, through his bloodstream, and into his cock, which was somehow hardening again.

Harry began rutting against Draco, and Draco hurriedly reached for his wand, casting a lubrication spell where their cocks touched. Immediately, the friction improved, and he let himself become lost in the motion.

Harry came quickly, quicker than Draco would have expected. He rolled to the side when Harry was done, pulling one of Harry's hands to touch him, to continue that delightful friction. He moaned unabashedly when Harry obediently complied.

Draco looked at Harry. His eyes flitted over Harry's heaving chest, his flushed face, the lip that he was currently biting. It was the grin Harry gave him that pulled him over the edge—the wide smile that said that he had done right, that he had made Harry feel good. He gasped and writhed under Harry's touch, spilling out over his hand.

They laid side by side. Draco stared up at the ceiling, and Harry stared at him.

He cleared his throat. "We'll have to figure out… some rules for this. Because I… I don't want to hurt you. And if you let me really do what I want to do… I'm afraid that I'll go way over the limit."

He felt Harry nod against his shoulder. "I'll think about what I want," he mumbled, sleepiness seeping into his voice. "Let's sleep now."

Draco turned his head, and looked at Harry, and Harry was smiling at him again.

And then Draco's heart gave a dangerous thump.

That wasn't an orgasm-induced grin. That was a genuinely happy smile. An _affectionate_ smile. And that—that wasn't what he was here for. Harry wasn't supposed to be affectionate toward him. They were just having sex. That was all.

He turned away roughly, considering going back to his own bed. But his bed was across the room, and Harry was warm, and so he stayed there, falling to a guarded sleep.

-X-

Theo and Blaise were not at lunch, and Draco was extremely irritated with them. First Potter had to go and act like a bloody sap, and he hadn't had enough sleep, besides. Now, his friends were off skipping lunch and probably fucking, and Draco was sitting all alone like a bloody recluse.

Until someone sat down across from him. He looked up, ready to display his annoyance to Blaise and Theo, but it was neither of them—rather, the bushy haired Granger.

He was about to mouth off at her, too, but then he remembered that he was trying to be nice. But he was only trying to be nice because he and Harry were fucking, but Harry had gone and smiled at him last night when he had no business to be smiling like that, so didn't that give him license to be mean to Granger? But he also shouldn't be making enemies for principle's sake, he supposed.

Before he had worked out the proper reaction, she started the conversation.

"It is all right if I sit here, right? Harry and Ron are off watching Quidditch practice," her nose wrinkled delicately as she spoke the name of the sport.

"Fine," Draco muttered, giving up on his internal battle. He had started being nice a few days ago, and he might as well continue now.

"Great," Granger said, and started putting food on the plate in front of her. "How are you, Draco?"

Draco blinked. It was odd to hear his given name out of the lips of yet another Gryffindor. Would he have to call her Hermione now? Wait, did he even know how to pronounce it? He had heard Harry say it a number of times since they had become roommates—herMYohnee, that was it, right?

Granger watched him for a moment, and then snorted, laughing into her hand. "Sorry, I can just see the gears turning in your head. You're a bit like Harry in that respect. It's the name thing, isn't it? Really odd, hm?"

Draco blinked, then chuckled. "You really are very clever, aren't you," he said, shaking his head bemusedly. He supposed that he should just assume that she knew everything, from now on. "Should I start calling you Hermione, now that we're to be bosom buddies?" He put a sarcastic hand to his heart as he spoke.

Granger laughed again. "I'd prefer Hermione, yes, but you can really call me anything you'd like. As long as it's not 'mudblood'," she spoke wryly.

Draco was stunned for a minute. "Well…"

Hermione giggled. "It's all right, it was a joke. You're allowed to laugh… I'm sorry, it's just so new having a normal conversation with you."

"Same to you," Draco said, still trying to wrap his mind around the casual way she had spoken about her blood status. "That you could joke about something like that…"

Hermione shrugged, taking a bite of food and chewing thoughtfully. She put her fork down and pulled up one of her robe sleeves. On her arm was a faded scar sporting the word "Mudblood", and he suffered a quiet loss of appetite. "Your Aunt Bella did this to me."

"I… I'm sorry," he said, guilt enfolding his insides.

"It's not your fault," Hermione shrugged. "War changes people. When your life is filled with events that come close to killing you, over and over again, the things you think are important change, and you change as a result of that. I stopped caring about blood prejudices, and evidently, so did you." She shook her sleeve back down.

"I suppose you're right," Draco nodded slowly. He had started losing faith in those ideals the moment he had realized how ridiculously mad Voldemort was.

"Anyway," Hermione said, dismissing the conversation with a wave of her fork. "Has Harry been a good roommate? He's been a bit quiet lately," she said. Draco raised his eyebrows, and she grimaced. "Oh, right, you heard our fight the other day, sorry about that. We're just worried about him, you see. He was very close to overcoming a lot of his grief, last semester, he had started talking and laughing and everything. But lately, he's just been so quiet." Her brow creased; she looked troubled.

"Well, like you said, war changes people. Maybe normal for him is different now, too?" Draco shrugged. "Just a thought."

Hermione looked at him, considering the idea. "You're right. I hadn't considered it from that angle. Something to think on."

"It's hard to see when people close to you change, because they're always right in front of you. You don't look at them, not really, until it's too late, and then they've become a completely different person." He wasn't sure where the words had come from, but they were near to the bitter place in his heart that was reserved for his father.

Hermione's lips twisted sympathetically. "I can imagine."

Just then, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and a loud gaggle of sweaty Quidditch players walked in. Harry and the Weasel were at the back of the lot, having a gesture-filled discussion about something that looked to be strategy related.

"I think I should leave," Draco said. "I don't think your boyfriend likes me very much."

"Wait," Hermione stopped him. "Don't worry about Ron. You should be able to sit with your roommate if you want to, you know? Besides, if there's anyone I can talk sense into, it's Ron. Trust me, I have seven years' worth of practice," she gave him a reassuring smile.

The group was drawing nearer. Weasley and Harry broke away to head toward the eighth year table.

"Oy, Hermione! You should've seen it, Gryffindor's reserve Seeker was fantas—hey, what's he doing here?" Weasley's freckled nose wrinkled as he switched topics mid-sentence.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but something possessed Draco to answer the question instead, and he cut her off. "Your girlfriend was just telling me how _excellent_ you are in the sack," he said, accenting his remark with a wink.

Weasley and Hermione flushed an immediate, bright red. Draco saw Harry mask a snort from behind Weasley.

"What—what makes you think we're having _sex_?" Hermione asked, her voice becoming increasingly squeaky as she reached the end of the question.

Oh, so they hadn't slept together yet, if he was reading them right. That was interesting. He raised his eyebrows.

"Well," he chose his words carefully, "People who are in love usually have sex at some point, right?" he asked rhetorically, adding a shrug to emphasize the casualness of the manner.

The two lovebirds in question weren't meeting each other's eyes. Inwardly, he chuckled. "Anyway, I have studying to do, so I'll be going, now." He stood up, climbing over the bench and heading toward the entrance. He couldn't resist a last look backwards, though, and what he saw was Harry looking at him, and in his eyes was wonder.

-X-

"I've thought about it," Harry said. He leaned forward, letting the hovering front legs of his chair hit the ground with a thump.

"About what?" Draco spoke grumpily, because Harry had just interrupted his train of thought and he was close to finishing the essay.

"Er, sorry, I'll let you finish," Harry apologized. Draco nodded and went back to his writing, the quill scratching comfortingly against the paper. A few more sentences… done.

"All right. What is it?" he asked, pushing all of his papers neatly into his bag.

"I've thought about I want."

"Christmas has already passed, Harry, it's a bit late for that," Draco raised an eyebrow, reaching down to pull his socks off and spell them into the laundry.

Harry gave him an unamused look. "I'm talking about sex, Draco."

_Oh._

It seemed he had trouble remembering conversations from very late at night, because he hadn't given a thought to it at all in the past few days. His heart began thrumming in anticipation. "I'm listening," he said after a pause.

Harry nodded. "Good," he said, and he was gazing at Draco in a way that made him feel like they were centimeters away from each other instead of across a room. "I assume you've read the section in the Guide, yeah?"

Draco nodded.

"I read over it again. I like the first bit, where it's mostly just power play. None of the painful stuff."

"Okay." Draco was relieved. He didn't know if he could have physically hurt Harry with a clean conscience. He shouldn't be allowed that much power, especially not over this man. He would end up breaking him. He was sure of it.

"But… I'm okay when you hold me down. And when you stop thinking about getting me off, and just go with it, that's really good," Harry's tongue darted out nervously against his lips.

"What do you mean?" Draco's brow scrunched.

Harry fidgeted with the seam on his trousers. "I want you to use my body to make you feel good," he said.

Draco blanched. "You want me to… use you?"

"A bit," Harry nodded. "When we have sex, I don't want to feel like it's all about me."

"So… you want me in control, and you want me to stop thinking so much about you. Is that what you're saying?"

"Sounds about right."

"But I want to practice touching you," Draco scowled. "Isn't that the point?"

Harry thought, then nodded. "You can touch me, of course. But make it because you want to do it, because it turns you on, not just to get me off." He watched Draco nod in response. "And… I liked how it was the other night, when you told me what to do. Or if you were to make it so that I couldn't move very much, and you were touching me, I'd like that too. Just… you can do what you want to me, as long as it's not really painful."

_But I already am._

"I think it'd be really sexy if you let go completely and just used me to get off," Harry continued. "You've been holding back, I can tell."

_I'm already using you._

"So don't feel bad about it, or feel like you're being self-centered, or anything."

_Shame. But still, pleasure._

"And don't worry if you're a bit rough, as long as it's not on purpose. I want it that way."

_It wouldn't work any other way._

"I'm rambling, sorry. Are you all right with that?"

_But really, wasn't this what Harry had been looking for in the first place?_

Draco cleared his throat. "Yes. Is that all?"

"The gist of it, I think." Harry bit his lip.

Slowly, Draco stood. "I want to do the safe-word spell," he said, Summoning the Guide.

"Why?" Harry asked, confused.

"As a safeguard. So this doesn't go too far beyond what you want," he murmured.

"You know what I want. It's not dangerous, or anything, and I trust you to do a good job," Harry shrugged.

_But I don't trust myself._

"Just do it with me, all right? It's not like it's going to hurt anything," Draco snapped.

"All right…" Harry's lips thinned. "Hang on, let me think of a word," he said, and Draco busied himself by flipping to the correct page.

"Think of a keyword too, for when we want it to activate," he added, skimming the spell's description. "That one doesn't have to be too weird, it's easy enough to turn back off if you turn it on accidentally."

Harry got up from his chair, coming closer and flopping onto Draco's bed. So, he wanted it tonight. They were going to have sex tonight. Draco felt short of breath, and desire began pooling in his groin. He climbed onto the bed, sitting at Harry's side.

"I think I've got it," Harry said. "Norberta, for the safe-word, and I dunno, we can just use 'start' for the keyword, I guess."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "What the hell is Norberta? Is that a dessert?"

"No, it's a dragon. I mean, a name for one, not a type of one." Harry smiled. "I thought it was fitting."

"Bloody… really? Are you making fun of my name?" Draco scowled.

"A bit," Harry grinned.

Draco let out an impatient sigh. "Fine, fine, whatever," he muttered with an eyeroll. "Here, say them both, safe-word first, when I reach the end of the incantation." Harry chuckled, sitting up to cross wands with Draco.

As they executed the spell, Draco felt the magic settle around them. It was a modified bonding spell, though not very strong—just enough so that when the word was said, Draco would be strongly inclined to stop what he was doing with Harry. And there was no way to stop the word being said, at least not through physical means. Not that he intended to try and gag Harry, or anything of the sort.

"It worked, I think. Try it?" he set his wand down.

"Start," Harry said, and Draco felt an immediate strengthening of some sort of link between them. It was definitely working.

Harry grinned at him. "Now that we have that…" he said, eyes wandering suggestively down to Draco's crotch.

"Yes?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

Harry grinned and Vanished their clothes.

"What the—it's cold, Potter!" Draco complained. Harry dragged him closer until he was next to, and then falling on top of the shorter man.

"I'm not cold," Harry's face was smug.

Draco rolled his eyes. Harry was indeed warm, though, so he laid down on top of Harry, pressing himself as close as possible.

There, he felt it, Harry's erection close to his own. He breathed out slowly. He had to restrain himself from rutting, holding back from the friction that his body wanted so badly. He shifted his weight for a moment in order to draw Harry's hands up over his head, holding them there with one hand. Harry had seemed to like that before, had said he liked to be held down…

It was then that he realized that he had no idea what he was doing. And that meant having Harry decide instead.

He drew his face closer to Harry's, stopping at a distance far enough away that Harry's lips couldn't reach him. "What do you want, Potter?" He did his best to snap Harry's surname, just as his younger self might have in this situation. He watched Harry's eyes dilate.

"I want you," Harry said, voice rough.

"No," Draco said. "I want to hear it. Tell me exactly what you want, or you won't get it." And this part was easy, it felt natural to him, because he did want to hear that lovely voice saying those naughty things. And if Harry wanted to be pinned down while he talked, then so be it.

"I want… I want you inside of me," Harry bit his lip. "Nn… I want you to kiss me, and open me up, and fuck me, and I want it so that I don't even have a choice, I want you to come inside of me when I can't even move."

Yes. Yes, he could want that. He wanted that. It was just sex. He didn't have to worry about it, because Harry wanted it.

"Turn around," Draco breathed. He pushed himself away from Harry so that Harry could comply.

Harry rolled over slowly, his heated gaze passing over Draco's body as he placed his hands on the headboard and pushed up onto his knees.

Draco swallowed. He met Harry's eyes, held them there as he picked up his wand, stared into Harry's soul as he bound Harry's hands to the headboard.

Harry nodded. Yes, this was good. Harry's arse was in the air, and Draco was going to fuck him, and he was so heady with that knowledge that he kissed Harry.

Harry groaned into his mouth, and Draco remembered that he had never actually initiated the whole kissing thing before, but Harry had looked so good, spread out for him to touch. And kissing Harry didn't feel bad, because it was so good, and it didn't actually mean anything, so he could let himself sway from the immensity and power of Harry's touch, of his lips.

Lust swam in Harry's eyes as Draco pulled away, and he reached a hand out to touch Harry's shoulder, his hip, the curve of his arse. He squeezed, and Harry bit his lip.

"You'd let me do anything to you, right now," he said.

Harry nodded.

"You trust me."

Harry nodded again.

_Why?_

He knew what he wanted to do, the idea had been floating around in his head since he had sucked Harry's cock. And Harry wouldn't resist him, now—

He kissed Harry again, and Harry's lips were soft, pliant against his. Ever so slowly, he pulled away, and then crawled behind Harry, who couldn't quite see him with his arms up on the headboard.

A whispered cleaning charm. He slid his hands up Harry's thighs, and then he spread Harry's arse open, so that he could see everything. He moved his face closer, and he knew Harry knew what he was about to do, because Harry tensed at the feel of his breath.

The first lick was slow, tentative—he wasn't sure he would like how it tasted. Harry's hips shot forward, and Draco had to regain his grip.

"Stay still, Harry," he murmured, and he saw Harry's head nod.

He did it again, just as slowly, moving his tongue from close to Harry's bollocks all the way up to his lower back. And again, except this time he stopped with his tongue against the puckered hole, and Harry moaned.

This was different than opening Harry up with his fingers—would this even work? He started making small, wet licks, tasting nothing but skin as of yet, because the cleaning charm had worked well.

And Harry was moaning, almost constantly, Harry, who had been very quiet all the times that they had sex before. He could get used to this, hearing Harry's voice while he touched him.

He pushed a little harder, and there, his tongue pushed partially inside, and Harry hissed. That was good. He did it again, slowly, pushing further. He could feel Harry shaking, straining, wanting to buck his hips and not able to because Draco's hands held them there and his hands were bound.

Farther, farther, and then he really was fucking him with his tongue, and Harry was whimpering. Draco felt like he was on fire. He stopped for a moment, and stuck his finger into his mouth, covering it liberally with saliva before beginning to work it into Harry's arse. He couldn't quite reach Harry's prostate with his tongue, and more than anything, he wanted to hear Harry moan when he came.

He licked around his finger as he worked it in and out, pressing further, searching, and he knew he had found _that spot_ when Harry swore loudly. Leaving his finger there, he rubbed his fingertip against it and continued to lick at Harry. He wondered if he could push his tongue in with his finger, and so he tried, and he could only push the tip in because the angle was awkward but Harry almost screamed when he did it.

"Draco, fuck!" Harry said, and Draco did his best to fuck him with his tongue and then Harry started shaking again.

And then he felt Harry start to grow impossibly tight around his finger, spasming, and _fuck_ , Harry was saying his name over and over, he was coming untouched. He kissed the swell of Harry's arse, listening to Harry's voice, closing his eyes with want.

He was shaking as he cast the lubrication spell, he wanted to come but he wanted, needed to be inside Harry first. He pushed his fingers inside Harry, going as quickly as he dared, but it was okay because Harry was almost open and ready for him anyway.

"Fucking do it, Draco," Harry muttered, and Draco groaned and pulled his fingers away and slicked himself quickly. And then he was inside of Harry, and it was all that he had wanted, his hands were moving up and down Harry's back and sides and he was barely able to thrust before he was seeing stars on the insides of his eyelids and all he could feel was the heat that surrounded him.

Harry. Harry.

He held onto Harry's body, and felt that it was what anchored him to the earth.

"Draco… Draco, can you…" he heard, and he looked up blearily.

"Can you unbind me, Draco?" Harry asked. He looked worn and tired, but his eyes were utterly and intensely _alive._

Draco nodded, limbs heavy as he found his wand and undid the magical ties. As an afterthought, he did the little wand swish that ended the safe-word spell—it was over, now, and he doubted he would be able to do it again tonight even if he wanted to.

Harry slumped onto the bed, and Draco followed, watching Harry's muscles move as he stretched out his shoulders.

"I s'pose you're sleeping in my bed tonight," Draco said sleepily, and Harry nodded.

"Damn straight, Draco."

Harry paused, and suddenly, there was that grin, the one that felt like sunshine on his skin. Draco felt his heart start pounding again, and he didn't know why.

"Draco… can we…" Harry started, and then swallowed. "Can I hold you?" He looked nervous.

Draco shrugged. "Why the hell not," he murmured, and shifted into Harry's embrace. "You've never bothered asking before."

"I figured I ought to… you seemed angry about it last time," Harry said. He bit his lip.

"It just…" He didn't know, really, right now. Not after being with Harry like that. Because this time had felt different, because they were sure of themselves, now. And without the awkwardness that came with first times, what did they have left?

_I'm lost._

"It doesn't matter," he finally said. "I'm going to sleep."

Harry tightened his grip, and Draco lost his own.

-X-

Draco was on his way to the library when he heard his name from down the hallway.

"Malfoy! Wait up!"

It was Weasley. What did he want?

He turned around, and then Weasley was pulling him into a nearby classroom and shutting the door. He was about to get his bollocks hexed off, he just knew it.

"Yes, I am gay, Weasley, and no, I am not getting it up for you," he scowled, crossing his arms.

Weasley squinted at him. "You're really off your rocker, aren't you, mate? That's disgusting. I don't go for blokes, and even if I did… ew, no," he shuddered slightly.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, we're done here, right?" Draco raised an eyebrow, eyeing the door. He really needed to study, because Harry had been doing his homework in their room lately and he was finding it increasingly hard to think when Harry was around. Because of the sex, of course.

"Hang on a minute! Gee, mate, it's a wonder Harry can stand you as a roomie."

Draco sighed, and leaned against the desk. "What is it, then?"

"I just wanted to thank you," Weasley said, and grinned. "I don't know what you said to Hermione, but after you talked to her at lunch the other day, she suddenly wanted to talk about sex and everything, and last night we finally—"

"Stop!" Draco said firmly. "All right, Weasley, I get it. You're welcome. Can I leave?" He was extremely uncomfortable, because although Hermione was all right, he certainly did not want to think about her and Weasley's sex life more than he had to.

"Fine, mate," Weasley shrugged. "But seriously—you can come sit with us any time," he smiled easily, amicably.

Draco wasn't sure he would ever be able to understand what made up the soul of a true Gryffindor.

-X-

Harry was screaming. Thankfully, Draco was already awake, because having Harry screaming in his nightmare the last time Harry had forgotten the silencing charms had been terrifying.

And that was before they had started having regular sex.

He leapt out of bed, over to Harry's side, shaking him awake.

"Harry, wake up. Wake up. You forgot your charms," Draco mumbled, voice still inebriated with sleep.

Harry jolted awake, hands coming up to clutch at something in the air and unfortunately hitting Draco in the face.

"Ow, fuck, Potter, that hurt," Draco complained, rubbing his cheek.

"Shite, I'm sorry," Harry gasped, sitting up in bed. "For hitting you, and… did I wake you up?"

Draco shook his head, and Harry relaxed.

"I swear, I don't know why I forgot to cast the charms," Harry berated himself. "I really promise, it won't happen again."

That was it. Because there was a possible solution, and they both knew it, and Draco was tired of having sleepless nights because of the nightmares. And if it worked like Draco thought it would… Sleep was more important than his pride.

"It won't happen again because you won't need to cast the charms anymore," Draco said firmly, and crawled into bed with Harry. He shifted closer, closer, until Harry's arms fell around him by default.

"Wait—Draco, you don't even like cuddling," Harry mumbled, confused.

"It's better than having bloody nightmares," Draco sighed. "I hope this works, because we're losing enough sleep with the sex as it is."

He heard Harry snort. "We could always skip dinner and start early…"

Draco elbowed him. "Shut it, Potter."

-X-

It didn't work nearly as well as sleeping together after they had sex, but Draco wasn't going to complain, because even though he had nightmares still, they had become less intense.

And Harry had stopped screaming. Draco had wondered if Harry had been surreptitiously casting silencing charms before he went to sleep, but he could always hear Harry's breathing when he woke up in the middle of the night. He eventually dismissed his suspicions.

After a week, it was decided that the experiment had been largely successful. And that they should keep doing it. And even though it was mostly Draco's decision, he still felt uncertain about it. Being near Harry made him feel too much, and he didn't know how to stop.

Sleeping with Harry was incredibly different from actually _sleeping with Harry_ , because this meant Harry's arms around him and his breath ghosting against his back. But they both knew that it didn't mean anything, and so it was okay.

And they were having more sex lately, too, because having Harry pressed up against him every night did delicious things to his libido. Sometimes when they were both horny, but too tired for prolonged exertion, they had quiet, slow sex, with Draco thrusting not even all the way into Harry out of gentle laziness.

When yet another day came where Theo and Blaise were absent from lunch (damn horny buggers), Draco sat down at the end of the table and tried his best to avoid Pansy's glare.

Then, suddenly, as he was ladling soup into his bowl, he was surrounded by Gryffindors.

"Hey, Draco," Harry said, sitting next to him without even asking.

"Hello?" Draco said, looking up. And then Weasley and Granger were sitting across from him. This was bizarre.

"I said you could sit with us, mate. Lunch is no fun when you're alone," Weasley said, already starting to eat.

"Don't feel like you can't talk to us, you know," said Hermione.

Draco squinted at them. Who said he had wanted to talk to them in the first place? Well, besides Harry, but that was a special case because they lived together.

So this was where being nice had gotten him.

"'S fine," he muttered, going back to his soup.

"What's fine?" Harry asked, but relented when Draco shook his head.

"So, what's it like rooming together, since you guys used to be sworn enemies and all? It was nice of you to let Blaise and Theo have a room to themselves," Weasley commented, munching on a roll.

"It's just like rooming with anyone else," Draco lied. Harry made a non-committal grunt.

"Pah, boring," Weasley chuckled. "Do you even have rows all the time anymore?"

"Well, we're…" Harry swallowed, throwing a quick glance at Draco. "…Friends, now, and so we've done our best to get along."

"There's no time to argue with NEWTS coming up," Draco added.

"See, that's what I'm talking about!" Hermione interjected. "If you would spend less time bickering over silly things, Ron, and more time studying, we could actually get some work done," she said haughtily.

"But, 'Mione, they're just roommates! It's different when you're dating," Ron protested.

Draco saw Hermione's eyes slide deliberately over himself, and then Harry. "…Right, Ronald," she said, stretching her vowels as she spoke.

Fuck. She had worked it out, probably. It was in the look she had given him, the look that said _I know you're up to something_. Had Harry told her?

While the other two were bickering, he turned to Harry with a wary expression, sighing. Harry shrugged, giving him the facial equivalent to _I didn't do it!_

He was about to grumble at Harry more, but a familiar voice spoke from behind him, interrupting his thoughts.

"Hey, chap, how's it going?" and then he and Harry became the receiving ends of twin shoulder thumps from Blaise.

Draco started to answer snottily, but Harry beat him to it. "It's all right," he said. "Though I miss your help with Transfiguration," he smiled at Blaise.

So Blaise had been talking to Harry. Right, they had roomed together. He hadn't known that they were close, though. However, he had never heard Blaise complain about Harry, so he supposed that it was probably a good indicator of their relationship.

"Budge up, then," Blaise said, and Harry moved closer to Draco so that Blaise and Theo could join the group.

From that day on, the six began eating together, and so Draco was subjected to both Ron and Hermione's bickering as well as Theo and Blaise's lewd gazes at each other from across the table. (He intentionally looked away the one time that Blaise "accidentally" dropped his fork, and "searched for it under the table" for over a minute.)

-X-

"I'm glad we're not like them," Draco said one night, as they dozed after a particularly pleasing mutual blowjob session. "Our friends, I mean."

"What, dating each other?" Harry asked.

"Well, yes, I suppose. All over each other. In love. It seems awfully time-consuming, don't you think?" Draco mumbled.

"Not… not really," Harry shrugged against him, and Draco looked over at the brunet.

"Even if it's not, being in love is dangerous. What would happen if one of them decided they didn't love the other anymore, or if they want to work in different countries after Hogwarts, or, Merlin-forbid, one of them dies? The other person would be incredibly sad." Draco laid his head back down on the pillow, rolling his eyes. "Love is irrational."

He pretended he didn't hear Harry's quiet sigh.

 _Falling in love is useless_.

It was a theme he had seen over and over again. His mother, her beautiful soul tarnished because she loved his father so much. She was fragile now, hurt, unable to live a happy life because her husband was in Azkaban. All of Blaise's mother's ex-husbands, now not living a life at all because they had fallen for the Black Widow. All of those who had partners die during the war. All of those whose partners had cheated and left them.

Draco would never allow himself to fall in love. It was something he had told himself from fifth year, when everything started going to hell.

He could do without the bickering and smoldering looks and words of endearment that came with attachment. (He could do without the cuddling, too, but it kept the nightmares mostly at bay.) Sex, yes. Love, no.

He was, to be honest, having a number of qualms with continuing to sleep with Harry. Harry was dangerous. Harry's eyes were too green, his post-orgasm grin too sincere, his touch too electrifying. Draco told himself that it was fine, made himself believe that as long as he felt nothing for Harry, it didn't matter. They could have sex, and sleep in the same bed, and then they would part ways after their NEWTS.

He became friends with the Gryffindors, and they became friends with Blaise and Theo, leading to the eventual formation of a study group as NEWTS drew nearer.

When he was alone with Harry, they had lots of sex. Harry let Draco finger him, let Draco fuck his face again, and sometimes said naughty things in his ear while Draco bent him double and pushed inside of him.

They alternated beds every night (because, "Can't we combine them?" Harry had said, and "Not if you ever want anyone else to come into our room again," Draco had replied.) The nightmares became even less frequent.

Sex, food, studying, sleep.

Three months went by.

-X-

"I'm not ready, I'll never be ready!" Hermione threw down her textbook and moaned. "NEWTS are in two weeks and I'm going to fail!" Her voice wobbled. Oh, Merlin, she was going to cry.

Where was Ron, when they needed him? Right, he was off getting tutored by McGonagall for his lapsing Transfiguration abilities. Draco glanced around rapidly, hoping that he wouldn't have to comfort her, because he was shite at it. He jerked his head toward Harry, but Harry's eyes widened, and he held his hands up, shaking his head. Draco resisted the urge to laugh.

Theo came to the rescue, swooping down to sit next to Hermione. "Don't say that. You are the most prepared out of all of us, and if you're failing, we'll all fail. So you're saying I'm not smart enough to pass my NEWTS?"

"N-no," Hermione shook her head. "But, my—"

"Good, then!" Theo patted her back. "We'll all pass, it's settled. Back to studying, now."

Hermione was stunned into silence. Good old Slytherin fallacies.

Looking out the window, Draco cast a Tempus. "Actually, it's late. I'm going to go to bed."

"Y-yeah," Hermione nodded. "I'm probably too stressed for studying right now."

Harry stood up from the common room sofa, yawning and stretching. "Me, too. I'm tired."

Draco's eyes trailed briefly over Harry's body as he put away his notes. The familiar burn of lust began to make itself known in his veins. He hoped that Harry wasn't too tired for sex.

He surveyed the floor, making sure he had picked up all of his quills, and stood up, following Harry back to the room.

When they got there, Harry made straight for the bed, pulling his shirt and trousers off as he went (it was too warm otherwise, he had said).

Draco put his bag down and stalked leisurely over to Harry. The brunet, who had laid down, sat up again and grinned expectantly.

"You want me," Harry said, the words looking incredibly familiar on his lips.

Draco nodded with a quiet hum. He took a moment to throw his own clothing into the laundry pile, then climbed onto the bed on his knees. "Come here," he said roughly, pulling Harry up against him.

Harry slid his arms across Draco's chest and leaned in to kiss him, slowly, brilliantly. Draco slipped his hands inside Harry's pants to get to his arse, squeezing gently.

"What do you want me to do?" Harry asked, lips moving down to Draco's neck.

"I want your mouth on me," Draco breathed, and pulled out of the embrace, laying down on his back.

Harry pulled off his own pants, kicking them into the floor, before lowering his mouth to Draco's groin.

He watched Harry kiss his thighs, lick the curve of his hip. He pushed his hips forward insistently.

"Suck my cock, Harry," he whined.

Harry smirked up at him, and Draco swore that he was stealing that expression from Draco's younger self. "Make me."

Draco growled and put his hand on Harry's face, cradling his cheek, thumb sliding over and then between Harry's lips. Harry opened his mouth obediently, sucking lightly at it.

"Start," Draco murmured, and Harry groaned around his thumb as they felt the safe-word spell activate. Even when they didn't come anywhere close to where Harry needed the word, Draco had found that the potential for losing control was one of Harry's biggest turn-ons.

Draco pulled his thumb free, sliding his hands into Harry's hair and pulling Harry's mouth to his cock. He opened Harry's jaw with a hand, holding him there, and Harry swallowed him down as he pulled, deeper, pausing to relax his throat, and moving deeper still. And Harry moaned, fuck, he would never get over how much Harry liked this.

Draco had a thought that it was a shame they'd be leaving in a month, because he doubted he'd ever get a better blow than the ones he had from Harry.

"Fuck, Harry," he murmured, as Harry pulled off almost entirely and repeated the motion. He closed his eyes, concentrating on feeling, making it last as long as possible.

Eventually, he got too close, and he shied away, letting Harry crawl back up and kiss him hard.

Somewhere in Draco's brain, a switch flipped, and he realized that he wanted to try again, try what they hadn't done since that very first night. Harry had touched him, had put fingers in his arse, but he hadn't even asked if they could do that again, because he wanted it to be about Draco, and Draco hadn't liked it, that first time.

But he was ready, now.

"I want you to fuck me," he said, carefully, voice thick with want.

Harry pulled away, lips swollen and eyes wide. "Really? That'd be… I mean, yes, I will," he said, nodding slowly.

"But I want to top," Draco added. He would be less vulnerable, that way, he would be in control.

Harry had already picked up his wand and cast the Lubrication spell, and Draco spread his legs. Cool, lubed fingers drifted over his arse, swiping up and down once, twice, three times. Harry bit his lip, concentrating, and then one of the fingers pushed slightly at Draco's entrance. He sighed, doing his best to relax himself for the intrusion.

The preparation seemed to go faster this time—Draco certainly wasn't as nervous, anymore, and it had even started to feel good by the time Harry had worked three fingers inside of him. He wanted more, he wanted…

"Lay down," he ordered, shifting aside as they switched positions. He raised himself over Harry's body, squatting slightly to get a good angle. He watched Harry cover himself with lube. The anticipation in his groin made it hard to watch, the slick movement of Harry's hand as he stroked himself.

"Hurry up," he complained, and then Harry was ready and the head of Harry's cock was at his arsehole.

He lowered himself slowly, less than an inch at a time, holding himself as open as he could for Harry. It was just as big inside of him as he had remembered, but Harry had prepared him well, now, and oh, the sensation of being filled was _good_.

He heard Harry groan, below him, when he settled all the way down, and he let out a deep, almost shaky sigh. It did hurt, a little, but not nearly as much, and now there was pleasure, too.

"Touch me," he told Harry, and then started to move. He watched Harry's breath get caught with every thrust, watched him pick up his wand and press lube into his hand and then _felt_ Harry fist his hand around and start stroking him.

He leaned back slightly, and there, that was good, Harry's cock was pressed up against his prostate, now. He started moving faster.

The intensity of the pleasure was unique—it had never felt this way for him before, because nothing had ever felt so good inside of him. Harry had started to buck his hips in rhythm with Draco's movements. He was about to come, soon, Draco knew, and so he pushed even harder, even faster.

He felt Harry's cock pulsing inside him, felt a sudden wetness, saw his sweaty skin under Draco's and his wide green eyes and open, keening mouth, and came.

Harry stroked his cock through both of their orgasms, all the way until Draco had to push him away for sensitivity's sake. Draco slid off of Harry, collapsing onto the bed and casting a cleaning charm before he could forget.

Harry's arms slid around him, and he relaxed. Sleep, now—

But Harry's lips were pressing against his. He responded easily, blood rushing through his veins, even sighing slightly, before he realized what they were doing.

He pulled away. "What the fuck, Harry?" he said, voice harsh. "We only kiss during sex. The sex is over now."

Harry looked pained for a brief second, like Draco's words had hurt him, but then rolled his eyes. "That's stupid. Can't you just enjoy it, for once?" he scowled.

"No," Draco said. "I told you when we started that I didn't want kissing. Sex is an exception."

"Whatever. Go sleep in your own fucking bed, since you obviously don't want to touch me," Harry muttered, rolling over and away.

"Fine!" Draco said, kicking the covers askew as he got out of bed because he knew it would bother Harry.

Sleep. No matter the nightmares. He didn't care.

-X-

Harry screamed. He should have expected it, but it jerked him awake from his frustrated doze. The room didn't seem quite warm enough without Harry pressed against him. He hadn't been able to sleep.

It took him a moment to register that Harry was screaming words, and that those words were his name.

" _Draco… Draco!_ "

He got up quickly, running over and sitting on Harry's bed, leaning over him, trying to wake him up. It took almost a minute, this time, and maybe it was because Harry wasn't used to nightmares this bad anymore. Unwanted guilt seeped into him.

"Harry!" he hissed, and Harry's eyes opened, finally. He blinked once, twice, registering Draco's form in the dark. He felt Harry's hands touch him, slide over his bare chest. Nervousness crept into his skin. Harry had been screaming his name, screaming for him. He didn't want to think about what that meant.

Harry's hands moved to his shoulders and pulled him down into an embrace, and he felt Harry shaking.

"You're here, you're here," Harry murmured. "Thank Merlin…"

No, no. "It doesn't matter if I'm here or not," Draco whispered, and Harry pushed him away slightly, looked him in the eye, face twisted with sadness.

He couldn't tell if it was just Harry trembling, or whether he himself was shaking, too. Tears started running down Harry's cheeks.

Harry took a short breath, then another. "Draco, just… pretend. Please. For one fucking moment, pretend you care," Harry choked out.

Draco swallowed, a lump of anxiety and _something else, something painful_ forming in his throat. "Fine," he said, feeling like the blood had slowed in his veins. "Just this once." Harry's words were opening him up, cutting into his insides, making him feel things that he didn't know how to feel.

He laid down beside Harry, gathering him into his arms, heart pounding. He cupped Harry's face, ran his fingers along his jaw. For the first time, he allowed himself to think about it, about the thoughts he had been avoiding for months.

He knew what he had been doing to Harry. He couldn't turn away from it now.

"Harry, listen," he started, and his voice was shaking. "I know… I know. But don't say it, because I can't deal with that. I can't," he said roughly. "So even if I pretend… please don't say it, because we'll have to stop," he spoke, voice sliding into a whisper. "Stop this, and stop everything." The emotions swimming under his skin threatened to break him, and Harry's tired, hurting expression would forever be imprinted into his mind.

"I… I know," Harry said, voice wobbling. "You said you didn't… in the first place, so it's just me. Oh, Merlin, it's just me, fuck, I'm sorry," he bowed his head, curling into himself.

Draco swallowed hard again, and oh, fuck, he was going to cry. "No, it's not."

Harry looked up at him again, misery shining on his face.

Draco stilled, trying to hold himself together, but tears were falling anyway. "I… It's not just you… I… I feel… it's the same, but I… I can't say it, I _can't let myself feel like that_." He spat out the words, distress bubbling in his mouth with every one.

"But _why_?" Harry cried. "If you feel… if you do, then why? Why can't you just… why?" his voice went quiet, and he shook his head.

"I have to get married," Draco finally admitted. "It's been arranged since fifth year. My father arranged it, and I don't care what he wants anymore, but… It'll help mother."

"Who."

"Why does it matter?"

" _Who._ "

He frowned, sighing. "…Pansy," he admitted.

"But… you're _gay_. You don't even like her! You've barely talked to her the entire year!" Harry protested, the green in his eyes dull, hurt.

"Whether I like her or not has nothing to do with it," Draco spat bitterly.

"But you like _me_ ," Harry said, and Draco didn't deny it.

"And look what I've done to you," he said slowly. "That's why. Even if I wasn't supposed to marry her… this wouldn't work. I can't be near you, because I'm fucking destroying you without even trying. Have you forgotten who I am, what I did?"

"No," Harry said. "I know who you are, Draco, and that's why I lo—"

Draco pushed a palm against Harry's mouth, muffling him. " _Don't. Say. It."_ He swallowed, then sobbed, once, twice, trying to regain control of himself but it wasn't working, because Harry had undone him already. He didn't want to marry Pansy, he wanted to be with Harry but he couldn't, he had to do this, for his mother, because his mother needed the dowry money…

He took his hand from Harry's mouth, pulling Harry closer. He wanted… if he gave in, this once, no one would need to know… "I need… if you want, I… just this once," he said again.

Harry nodded. He closed his eyes, and they became broken together as Draco kissed him.

The wetness, the salt on their faces didn't matter, because Draco opened up and let Harry in, let his feelings show through his skin. Their kisses were slow, desperate, and neither of them had stopped crying yet.

Lips, tongue, soft, bare skin against skin, _Harry_. All Harry.

They kissed until Draco's lips were sore, until the tears had long dried on their faces, until they fell asleep, pressed close together, from complete exhaustion.

When Draco woke up, Harry had left the room.

-X-

There was a week until NEWTS, and Draco was still as listless and shattered as he had been that night. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. He saw Harry, coexisted with him, glanced at him, and sometimes Harry looked back, and Harry was hurting, he had hurt him.

Draco didn't know if he would ever forgive himself.

He dropped out of the study group, because Harry was closer to his friends than Draco was to his own, and Harry needed them more, right now.

He saw Hermione looking at him, once, hurt in her eyes. He wondered if Harry had told her everything. He realized he didn't care.

He found Pansy. He gave an apology that he only pretended to mean, but it didn't matter, she believed him. The day before the NEWTS, when they were alone, she kissed him, and he let her. It didn't matter.

Kissing wouldn't ever be the same again.

The nightmares were bad, worse than ever before, because now it was always Harry, Harry screaming that it was his fault, everything was his fault.

He had to… he had to…

The letter from the Parkinsons came, asking for his confirmation of engagement.

He accepted.

-X-

And then the NEWTS.

Memorize, write, potions, memorize, essays, charms, wands, inspections, transfiguration, practicals, _Harry_ , memorize, recite, rinse, repeat, and they were done.

Three days until graduation. And then he wouldn't have to see Harry, see the pain of what he had done, ever again.

-X-

The night before graduation was packing night. He worked quickly, quietly, trying and failing to pay no attention to the brunet across the room.

He heard an intake of breath, and glanced up. "Draco," Harry said, breaking their unspoken vow of silence.

"What?" Draco said, and he meant to sound annoyed, but his voice came out deadened and dull.

"These are your socks," Harry said, holding up a pair, throwing them over when Draco held out his hands.

"Thanks," he caught them. He continued packing.

He worked for half an hour, and then he was done. In the space of thirty minutes, his life at Hogwarts was wrapped up neatly in his trunk for the last time.

"Draco," Harry said again, as he closed his trunk with a click. "This… is yours, too."

Harry hadn't turned around yet, didn't turn around. What was it?

Draco hesitated, then walked over to Harry's side of the room, looking over his shoulder.

It was the Guide.

He swallowed. Memories rose to the surface. They had looked through its pages together many times, for new things to try, for questions that needed answers. Its pages were bent, and there was a suspicious stain on the front cover.

Harry flicked it open, and it fell to the page that Draco had caught him wanking to once, the one with the picture of a blonde man who looked similar to Draco, photographed mid-orgasm.

"Draco."

"Hmm?"

"Want to have sex?"

"…What?" No, fuck no, of course he didn't.

Except that he did.

Oh fuck, he really did, he wanted to touch Harry again, because going without it after having it for so long was _agonizing_. But what was he supposed to say? He was, albeit reluctantly, engaged, but it was Harry, and Harry... it would hurt him. And it would hurt Draco, too.

"It'll hurt you," Draco voiced his thoughts quietly.

_Yes, it would hurt Harry._

"You've already hurt me," Harry shrugged.

Draco flinched.

"Shite, sorry, that wasn't very nice of me," Harry said, biting his lip. "Look, Draco… I won't see you again. Doing this another time isn't going to matter."

He wanted to. He wanted…

"I'm so sorry," he said in a rush, and walked forward, wrapping his arms around him, holding the smaller man from behind.

Oh. Harry. This was nice. He had forgotten how nice it felt to touch his skin.

He felt as if he were dreaming.

And as long as they had one, last dream to go, it better be a good one.

"Don't apologize," Harry shook his head, leaning back into Draco's embrace. "I knew what I was getting into. You told me from the beginning."

"I did," Draco nodded. "But still…"

Harry turned around in his arms, his face twisted into an expression that he wouldn't have been able to interpret, months earlier, the one that said _it's not quite okay but I can deal with it_. "Talk later," he murmured. "I want you now."

They undressed each other with hurried, trembling fingers, as if they could be caught, as if someone would walk in and see how vulnerable they were, bared for each other.

"Start," Harry murmured, but Draco shook his head, dismissing the safe-word spell with his wand.

"We won't need that," he said, and then he kissed Harry slow and deep and open.

He prepared Harry quickly, as he liked it, kissing, touching him in all the right places.

And when he was ready, Draco pushed Harry onto his back and made love to him for the very first time. He looked Harry in the eyes as he came, trying to show how much Harry meant to him.

They were both quiet when they were finished. Draco stayed there, in Harry's bed, and Harry dozed off.

Draco couldn't sleep. He was too anxious for the morning, because when the morning came, he would have to let go.

He was awake to notice when Harry's body went stiff, when his bad dreams began, and he was there to shake him awake, because he couldn't bear to see Harry in any more pain.

"Thanks," Harry smiled at him, the affectionate smile that Draco had seen only once before. He hadn't wanted to think about it before. Now, it was all that he wanted, all that he could not have.

"You're…" _welcome_ , he was going to say, but he hadn't really done anything to help Harry in the long run. "I'm sorry," he said instead.

Harry frowned at him. "Stop pitying me. Everyone does that, I know what it looks like," he elbowed Draco lightly. "This is honestly what I asked for. I told you to use me, remember?"

"For sex," Draco frowned, his brow creasing. "That's different."

"It's what I wanted in the first place," Harry gave him a wry grin. "I thought that something like this would happen, and I did it anyway. Because you don't look at me like everyone else does, you see me as something breakable, and I knew that if I wanted you to, you would break me. And that's… it's a turn-on, and it's risky, and it makes me feel like I could do anything. I just… went too far."

"I didn't… Merlin, I didn't want to hurt you."

Harry chuckled slightly. "I know that. But I kind of wanted you to. I needed to feel again, something else besides grief, and that's why agreed to all of this in the first place. You… you make me feel things, Draco. And that's why I fell in love with you." He smiled that soft, happy smile.

God, he was breaking, his heart was splitting, ripping in half. He hadn't wanted to hear those words from Harry, because now he knew, for certain, the words could never be unsaid. Harry wanted to be with him, and Draco…

He squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face into Harry's chest. He stayed there for a long time, and Harry scratched slow, lazy circles into his scalp.

"Do you love Pansy?" Harry asked tentatively, as if he really didn't want to know the answer.

"No, I don't," Draco answered immediately. "I used to think that I could… but after this year, with you, and her hatred of me this whole time, I don't think it's possible anymore."

"Okay," Harry said, and Draco felt him relax.

He was tired. He was starting to fall asleep, even though he didn't want to, because he wanted to stay awake, here, with Harry.

He allowed his eyes to close when they finally became too heavy, concentrating instead on how Harry felt, so firm against his body. So warm, so beautiful.

"We could run away," he heard Harry say. And maybe he was dreaming, but Harry's voice sounded real enough. "I'd run away with you. I have money, loads of it. We could go anywhere, Draco. You could break your engagement and stay with me…"

Harry was whispering into his ear. This must be a dream, because he really doubted that Harry had loads of money. His clothing would fit better if he did. Or maybe Harry thought he was asleep, and was just fantasizing—he wasn't sure. But oh, how he loved Harry's voice, the way that Harry could talk for hours and say such beautiful things when no one else could see them.

"Maybe I'll ask you in the morning," Harry said. "I'd ask you, and then maybe you'd say yes, and then we'd leave after graduation, and go anywhere we wanted to go. You and me."

 _He really loved Harry._ It was the first time he allowed himself to think those words. They rang true and clear into his tired mind.

"You're stubborn, but maybe I can convince you. I'm glad you don't love Pansy. Because I love you." Harry laughed slightly. "And maybe I won't ask you in the morning. You'll probably be gone when I wake up."

He heard Harry yawn.

"How about this. If you're here in the morning, I'll try to convince you. And if you leave, I won't try to find you."

Did he want to say yes? He wasn't sure. Breaking the engagement meant that the old pureblood families would turn against him, and his mother as well.

Mother… his beautiful mother, ruined by love. He loved her very much. But he loved Harry too.

Harry had stopped talking, but his hand was still making smooth circles on Draco's back.

If this really wasn't a dream, Draco could decide in the morning. They still had time.

He curled closer to Harry and surrendered unto sleep.

_Fin._


End file.
